 | Poems |  |
124
THE NIGHT-BLOOMING CEREUS.
How coyly thou the golden hours dost number!
Not all their splendor can thy love beguile;
Vainly the morning zephyrs fan thy slumber,
And noon's rich glory wooes thee for a smile.
Not all their splendor can thy love beguile;
Vainly the morning zephyrs fan thy slumber,
And noon's rich glory wooes thee for a smile.
For thou dost blossom when cool shadows hover,
And dews are falling through the dusky air;
When with new fervor dreams the happy lover,
And winds grow solemn with the voice of prayer.
And dews are falling through the dusky air;
When with new fervor dreams the happy lover,
And winds grow solemn with the voice of prayer.
While all around thee earth's bright things are sleeping,
Gay lilies fade and droops the crimson rose,
Fresh is the vigil thou alone art keeping,
And sweet the charms thy virgin leaves disclose.
Gay lilies fade and droops the crimson rose,
Fresh is the vigil thou alone art keeping,
And sweet the charms thy virgin leaves disclose.
Thus, in the soul, is deep love ever hidden,
Thus noble minds will fondly shun the throng,
And, at their chosen time, start forth unbidden,
With peerless valor or undying song.
Thus noble minds will fondly shun the throng,
And, at their chosen time, start forth unbidden,
With peerless valor or undying song.
125
Thus the true heart its mystic leaves concealing,
Folds them serenely from the world's broad glare,
Its treasured bliss and inmost grief revealing
To the calm starlight and the dewy air.
Folds them serenely from the world's broad glare,
Its treasured bliss and inmost grief revealing
To the calm starlight and the dewy air.
Blest is thy lesson, vestal of the flowers,—
Not in the sunshine is our whole delight;
Some joys bloom only in life's pensive hours,
And pour their fragrance on the breeze of night.
Not in the sunshine is our whole delight;
Some joys bloom only in life's pensive hours,
And pour their fragrance on the breeze of night.
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