By Night

To yon still house I raise mine eyes,
Against a tree reclined;
For there in soft repose she lies,
To sweetest dreams resigned.

And oft to heav'n I glance from thence,
Dark clouds obscure its blue;
But lo! tho' seem the clouds so dense,
The moonbeam glimmers through.
Translation: 
Language: 
Author of original: 
Ludwig Uhland
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.