Classic Poem

Good night, good night; for the dews are sleeping,
And the moon in the pale blue skies is steeping
Her radiant locks; and the birds are at rest,
And the cushat sits brooding on her nest;
And the shade on the woods is a deeper green;
And the dark gray hills are more faintly seen;
And the flowers their bells of beauty close,
And wearied nature seeks repose.
— There is rest for all, but none for thee,
For thy heart is spell-bound, and thou must flee
From the influence of this twilight hour,
For it hath a strange bewitching power.
'Twill breathe of hopes which will never be true;
'Twill bring thine infancy fresh to thy view;
And with its sweet and shadowy light,
Retouch each vision to thy sight.
And, last of all, 'twill breathe of love,
And thou wilt start — but cannot remove
The heavy weight of the lingering sigh,
And the dream of the vanish'd extasy.
'Twill fall on thy heart like sun on flowers,
Like spring to the birds among the bowers;
And while thou art hailing the vision bright,
Thou shalt waken and find — the chill of night.

Good night, good night; for the dews are sleeping,
And the moon in the pale blue skies is steeping
Her radiant locks; and the birds are at rest,
And the cushat sits brooding on her nest;
And the shade on the woods is a deeper green;
And the dark gray hills are more faintly seen;
And the flowers their bells of beauty close,
And wearied nature seeks repose.
— There is rest for all, but none for thee,
For thy heart is spell-bound, and thou must flee
From the influence of this twilight hour,
For it hath a strange bewitching power.
'Twill breathe of hopes which will never be true;
'Twill bring thine infancy fresh to thy view;
And with its sweet and shadowy light,
Retouch each vision to thy sight.
And, last of all, 'twill breathe of love,
And thou wilt start — but cannot remove
The heavy weight of the lingering sigh,
And the dream of the vanish'd extasy.
'Twill fall on thy heart like sun on flowers,
Like spring to the birds among the bowers;
And while thou art hailing the vision bright,
Thou shalt waken and find — the chill of night.