Euphrone
O soft-cheeked mother, O belovèd night,
Dispeller of black thoughts and mortal dreads,
Drowner of sorrows. In how many beds,
Betwixt the evening and the dawning light,
Thy tenderness, thy pity infinite,
Hath it not poured nepenthe, soft as rain,
On thankful lids that have forgotten pain,
Forgotten grief, forgotten care and spite!
How many lovers also side by side,
After long waiting such a weary while,
Now with arms locked, cheeks touching, satisfied,
Sleep, and their one great hour returns to thee,
On these too dost thou not incline thy smile,
Tender with welcome, Mother Euphrone?
Dispeller of black thoughts and mortal dreads,
Drowner of sorrows. In how many beds,
Betwixt the evening and the dawning light,
Thy tenderness, thy pity infinite,
Hath it not poured nepenthe, soft as rain,
On thankful lids that have forgotten pain,
Forgotten grief, forgotten care and spite!
How many lovers also side by side,
After long waiting such a weary while,
Now with arms locked, cheeks touching, satisfied,
Sleep, and their one great hour returns to thee,
On these too dost thou not incline thy smile,
Tender with welcome, Mother Euphrone?
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