 | Poems by James Rhoades |  |
124
X.
[This is the charmèd hour and noon of night]
This is the charmèd hour and noon of night:A rich earth-fragrance rides upon the gale,
Mingled with heaven's own dews, and moonbeams pale
Float down, and flood the lawn with faery light.
How loud the stillest day would seem, how bright
The softest, to this hour of spirit-rest!
See! where above the black fir's slendering crest,
In sky-abysses calm and infinite,
Ever one star with pure and perfect ray
Shines as through tears! Far off the night-bird cries;
And low winds whisper of the glad surprise
Of death, and regions very far away—
While thou, poor Spirit, from this prison-clay
May'st look and long, but hast no wings to rise.
| Poems by James Rhoades | |