Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the read more

Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the lonely house.

But when the sun in all his state,
Illumed the eastern skies,
She passed through glory's morning read more

But when the sun in all his state,
Illumed the eastern skies,
She passed through glory's morning gate,
And walked in Paradise.

Upon the cunning loom of thought
We weave our fancies, so and so.

Upon the cunning loom of thought
We weave our fancies, so and so.

Till then, good-night!
You wish the time were now? And I.
You do not blush to wish read more

Till then, good-night!
You wish the time were now? And I.
You do not blush to wish it so?
You would have blush'd yourself to death
To own so much a year ago.
What! both these snowy hands? ah, then
I'll have to say, Good-night again.

Good night! I have to say good night,
To such a host of peerless things!

Good night! I have to say good night,
To such a host of peerless things!