Give me my cloak! It is no night for sleep,
And I will wear a vigil with the stars
Until the break of morning. What a scene!
The orient is all molten with the light
Of a perfected moon, and in the west
The deep blue tints look cool, and every star
Is drawn distinctly on the sheet of heaven.
The winds are wholly still, and as we pass,
Breaking the shadows of the many trees
That sleep upon the margin, or go in
Among the graceful windings of the stream,
We seem like wizards, turning into waves
The very sky--it sleeps so perfectly.
The vesper bells are hushed, but I can see
The glitter of the steeples on the hills
That swell up from the shore, and heavenly
As is the face of nature, they come in
Among her features like a pleasant smile,
The thought of worship is so beautiful.
Swiftly, yet gently on! How human things
Are sometimes like a witching vision, fair!
And how the cunning of diviner skill
Can mingle up the elements, to make
A fallen world like heaven! I am made
Subject to ills, and erringly at best
May use my faculties; but I am here
With God’s best work about me, and a mind
Humbly, but purely to the harmonies
Of nature tuned, the only looker on
In all this lovely paradise of light.
Blessed we sometimes are! and I am now
Happy in quiet feelings; for the tones
Of a most pleasant company of friends
Were in my ear but now, and gentle thoughts
From spirits whose high character I know,
Were spoken at the rising of the moon,
And I retain their influence, as the air
Retains the softness of departed day.
And so I should be happy; and while joy
Is with me, I will bless my company
Of sleeping friends, and if their eyes should rest
Upon this page hereafter, they will know
That in the history of my lonely hours
Some gentler passages were writ by them.