Philip James Bailey

Night comes, world-jewelled, . . .
The stars rush forth in myriads as to wage
War with read more

Night comes, world-jewelled, . . .
The stars rush forth in myriads as to wage
War with the lines of Darkness; and the moon,
Pale ghost of Night, comes haunting the cold earth
After the sun's red sea-death--quietless.

Poets are all who love,--who feel great truths,
And tell them.

Poets are all who love,--who feel great truths,
And tell them.

I love night more than day--she is so lovely;
But I love night the most because she brings
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I love night more than day--she is so lovely;
But I love night the most because she brings
My love to me in dreams which scarcely lie.

And these are joys, like beauty, but skin deep.

And these are joys, like beauty, but skin deep.

For ivy climbs the crumbling hall
To decorate decay.

For ivy climbs the crumbling hall
To decorate decay.