Classic Poem

When the moon is bright on the house's broad wall,
Where the wavering shades of the poplar trees fall,
While streams from the rocks with a soft gurgling sound
Fall into a basin of stone on the ground,
And the daisies that opened the whole day through
Have shut themselves up from the night's chilly dew,
Oh night, oh light, oh sight, where, on my way,
I, tho' not weary, am so fain to stay—

‘What is it, then, in this house that you find,
Above all besides you have left behind?’—

It is that these broad walls of this old house keep
One worthy of all love, in pillowed sleep,
And thus it is that I am fain to take
The casket hallowed for the jewel's sake.
Oh night, oh light, oh sight, where, on my road,
I fain would linger at this fair abode.
Oh wind, bring not to-night a darksome cloud
With deep earth-shaking thunder rattling loud,
As if it were a giant's car that sped
Its course along a rugged road o'erhead,
And driving night birds from the plains to groves,
And in the groves to their own sheltering coves.
Oh night, oh light oh sight, that are so clear
As for a while I fain would linger here.
Oh wind, break not to-night with startling crash
A limb from sturdy elm or taper ash;
Nor cast a loosened stone from this fair pile,
Nor from its roof lift up a mossy tile;
But let it stand unharmed from night till morn,
From now to generations yet unborn.