NOW sunk the sun, now twilight sunk, and Night Rode in her zenith; nor a passing breeze Sighed to the groves, which in the midnight air Stood motionless, and in the peaceful floods Inverted hung. For now the billow slept Along the shore, nor heaved the deep, but spread A shining mirror to the moon's pale orb, Which, dim and waning, o'er the shadowy clifts, The solemn woods and spiry mountain-tops, Her glimmering faintness threw. Now every eye, Oppressed with toil, was drowned in deep repose; Save that the unseen shepherd in his watch, Propped on his crook, stood list'ning by the fold, And gazed the starry vault and pendant moon; Nor voice nor sound broke on the deep serene, But the soft murmur of swift-gushing rills, Forth-issuing from the mountain's distant steep (Unheard till now, and now scarce heard), proclaimed All things at rest, and imaged the still voice Of Quiet whispering to the ear of Night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SHELLEY'S SKYLARK by THOMAS HARDY SONNET: TO HOMER by JOHN KEATS THE SPIRIT OF SHAKESPEARE: 1 by GEORGE MEREDITH SONNET: 9. TO THE RIVER LODON by THOMAS WARTON THE YOUNGER TO A PRESIDENT by WALT WHITMAN TIME'S REVENGE by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS |