Classic Poem

There slumber they all, those dark gray hills,
And the darkling vales sleep gently there;
Now slumber reigns, and no sadness fills
With its wail the ambient air.

'Mid strifes and struggles my realms I won,
'Mid cares have I drunk of the sparkling bowl;
Heav'n gleams with stars and the night's begun:
I seek to rejoice my soul.

O writing of gold in the stars revealed,
To you I lovingly gaze aloft!
Thou wondrous music from man concealed,
How I list for thy murmurs soft!

My hair is hoary and dim my sight,
In the hall are hung both shield and spear;
In word and deed have I fostered right,
Ah! when shall my rest draw near?

Ah! how for that blest repose I yearn,
Ah! beauteous Night, why slacks thy speed?
Thou Night, when the stars shall yet brighter burn,
And their music be heard indeed!