Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, NIGHT, by ELIZA COOK


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

NIGHT, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The god of day is speeding his way
Last Line: And the slave forget his chain.
Subject(s): Night; Bedtime


The God of Day is speeding his way
Through the golden gates of the west;
The rosebud sleeps in the parting ray,
The bird is seeking its nest.

I love the light -- yet welcome, Night!
For, beneath thy darkling fall
The troubled breast is soothed in rest,
And the slave forgets his thrall.

The peasant child, all strong and wild,
Is growing quiet and meek;
All fire is hid 'neath his heavy lid,
The lashes yearn to the cheek.

He roves no more in gamesome glee,
But hangs his weary head,
And loiters beside the mother's knee
To ask his lowly bed.

The butterflies fold their wings of gold,
The dew falls chill in the bower,
The cattle wait at the kineyard gate,
The bee hath forsaken the flower;

The roar of the city is dying fast,
Its tongues no longer thrill;
The hurrying tread is faint at last,
The artisan's hammer is still.

Night steals apace. She rules supreme;
A hallowed calm is shed:
No footstep breaks, no whisper wakes --
'Tis the silence of the dead.

The hollow bay of a distant dog
Bids drowsy Echo start;
The chiming hour from an old church tower
Strikes fearfully on the heart.

All spirits are bound in slumber sound,
Save those o'er a death-bed weeping;
Or the soldier one that paces alone,
His guard by the watch-fire keeping.

With ebon wand and sable robe,
How beautiful, Night, art thou!
Serenely set on a throne of jet,
With stars about thy brow!

Thou com'st to dry the mourner's eye,
That, wakeful, is ever dim;
To hush for awhile the grieving sigh,
And give strength to the wearied limb.

Hail to thy sceptre, Ethiop queen!
Fair mercy marks thy reign;
For she care-worn breast may take its rest,
And the slave forget his chain.





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