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Poems on Several Occasions

Written by Charles Cotton

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The Night.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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237

The Night.

Written by Monsieur le Comte de Cremail.

Stanzes.

I

Oh Night! by me so oft requir'd,
Oh Night! by me so much desir'd,
Of my Felicity the cause,
Oh Night! so wellcome to my eyes,
Grant, in this horrour of the Skies,
This dreadfull shade thy Curtain draws,
That I may now adore this Night
The Star that burns and gives me light.

238

II

Spread o'er the Earth thy Sable Veil,
Heaven's twinckling sparklets to conceal,
That darkness seems to day t'improve;
For other light I do need none
To guide me to my lovely one,
But only that of mine own love;
And all light else offends my sight,
But hers whose eye does give me light.

III

Oblivion of our forepass'd woes,
Thou Charm of sadness, and repose
Of Souls that languish in despair,
Why dost thou not from Lethe rise?
Dost thou not see the whole World snies
With Lovers who themselves declare
Enemies to all noise and light,
And covet nothing but the Night?

239

IV

At her transparent Window there
Thou'lt see Aminta's eye appear,
That, like a Sun set round with Ray,
The shadows from the Sky shall chase,
Changing the colour of its face
Into a bright and glorious day;
Yet do not fear this Sun so bright,
For 'tis a mighty Friend to Night.

V

Rise then, lov'd Night, rise from the Sea,
And to my Sun Aurora be,
And now thy blackest Garment wear;
Dull sleep already thee forgoes,
And each-where a dumb silence does
Thy long'd-for long approach declare;
I know the Star that gives me light,
To see me only stays for Night.

240

VI

Ha! I see shades rise from th' Abiss,
And now I go the Lips to kiss,
The Breasts and Eyes have me deceiv'd;
Oh Night! the height of my desire,
Canst thou put on so black attire
That I by none can be perceiv'd,
And that I may this happy Night
See the bright Star that gives me light?

VII

Oh that my dusky Goddess could
In her thick Mantle so enfold
Heaven's torches, as to damp their fire,
That here on Earth thou might'st for ever
Keep thy dark Empire, Night, and never
Under the Waves again retire;
That endless so might be the Night,
Wherein I see the Star my light!