'TIS night -- still night! The murmuring world lies still! All things which are lie still and whisper not; The owl, the bat, the clock which strikes the hour And summons forgetful man to think of heaven, The midnight cricket on the ashy hearth, Are quiet, dumb! Hope, Fear, lie drown'd in dreams; And conscience, calmer than a baby's breath, Murders the heart no more. Who goes? 'Tis naught, Save the bird echo, who comes back to me Afraid o' the silence. Love! art thou asleep? Rose o' the night, on whom the soft dew lies, Here come I, sweet, mocking the nightingale, To sing of endless love, passionate pain, And wishes that know no rest! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CA' THE YOWES TO THE KNOWES by ROBERT BURNS THE LONELY DEATH by ADELAIDE CRAPSEY VERSES TO MR. C by ALEXANDER POPE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 38. THE MORROW'S MESSAGE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE WESTERN JOURNALIST by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS DEAD LOVE by MARY MATHEWS ADAMS DRINKING SONG (4) by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE FATHERHOOD by HENRY CHARLES BEECHING HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 24 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |