Poetical works of the late F. Sayers to which have been prefixed the connected disquisitions on the rise and progress of English poetry, and on English metres, and also some biographic particulars of the author, supplied by W. Taylor |
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ODE TO NIGHT. |
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ODE TO NIGHT.
Hither, O queen of silence, turn the steeds,
The slow-pac'd steeds that draw thy ebon car,
And heave athwart the sky
Thy starry-studded veil.
The slow-pac'd steeds that draw thy ebon car,
And heave athwart the sky
Thy starry-studded veil.
Come not with all thy horrors clad, thy heaps
Of threat'ning, pitchy clouds, thy wasteful blasts,
Which howling o'er the deep,
High swell the boisterous surge.
Of threat'ning, pitchy clouds, thy wasteful blasts,
Which howling o'er the deep,
High swell the boisterous surge.
Far be the fearful forms that round thee float!
The owl shrill-shrieking, and the flitting bat,
And every ghastly shape
That frighten'd fancy spies!
The owl shrill-shrieking, and the flitting bat,
And every ghastly shape
That frighten'd fancy spies!
But come with peaceful step, and o'er the land,
Parch'd by the sultry sun, thy coolness breathe,
And shed thy summer mists
Upon the with'ring herb.
Parch'd by the sultry sun, thy coolness breathe,
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Upon the with'ring herb.
Let all be still—save the sweet note of her
Who warbles to thy steps, and the faint sound
Of yon tall trees, that bend
Before thy swelling breeze.
Who warbles to thy steps, and the faint sound
Of yon tall trees, that bend
Before thy swelling breeze.
Or, from the distant mountain, whose huge crags
Are pil'd to heaven, let echo feebly send
The falling water's roar,
Across the wide-spread lake.
Are pil'd to heaven, let echo feebly send
The falling water's roar,
Across the wide-spread lake.
Then will I hasten to the firm-built tower,
And climb its winding steps, and from the top,
Gaze with a deep delight
On heaven's bright-burning fires;
And climb its winding steps, and from the top,
Gaze with a deep delight
On heaven's bright-burning fires;
While from the Northern verge of ether shoot
The flickering tides of ever-changing light,
Now rolling yellow streams,
Now ting'd with glary red.
The flickering tides of ever-changing light,
Now rolling yellow streams,
Now ting'd with glary red.
Pleas'd will I trace the meteor of the vale,
Which, smoothly sliding thro' its shining path,
Sinks in its swampy bed,
And dims its fires in mist.
Which, smoothly sliding thro' its shining path,
Sinks in its swampy bed,
And dims its fires in mist.
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Descending, thro' the dewy fields I'll stray,
Where on the grass the quiet herds are stretch'd,
Mixing their fragrant breath
With freshen'd scents of flowers;
Where on the grass the quiet herds are stretch'd,
Mixing their fragrant breath
With freshen'd scents of flowers;
Or, loitering on the brim of ocean, mark
The pale beams dancing on its curled waves,
While from the gleamy east
The moon begins her course;
The pale beams dancing on its curled waves,
While from the gleamy east
The moon begins her course;
Then slowly wandering to my peaceful home,
I'll seek my silent couch, and floating dreams
Shall feast my charmed soul
With airy scenes of bliss.—
I'll seek my silent couch, and floating dreams
Shall feast my charmed soul
With airy scenes of bliss.—
| Poetical works of the late F. Sayers | |