The burden of Dumah. He calleth to me out of Seir, Watchman,
what of the night? Watchman, what of read more

The burden of Dumah. He calleth to me out of Seir, Watchman,
what of the night? Watchman, what of the night?

Boast during the day; be humble at night.

Boast during the day; be humble at night.

And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold read more

And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

Wan night, the shadow goer, came stepping in.

Wan night, the shadow goer, came stepping in.

The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind,
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind:
read more

The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind,
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind:
There all in sweet confusion sought the shade,
And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si read more

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si beau jour qui n'amene sa nuit.]

A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day's read more

A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day's work ended,
Lingers as in content,
There falls on the old, gray city
An influence luminous and serene,
A shining peace.

The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains--Beautiful!
I linger yet with read more

The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains--Beautiful!
I linger yet with Nature, for the night
Hath been to me a more familiar face
Than that of man; and in her starry shade
Of dim and solitary loveliness
I learn'd the language of another world.

Dark the Night, with breath all flowers,
And tender broken voice that fills
With ravishment the listening read more

Dark the Night, with breath all flowers,
And tender broken voice that fills
With ravishment the listening hours,--
Whisperings, wooings,
Liquid ripples, and soft ring-dove cooings
In low-toned rhythm that love's aching stills!
Dark the night
Yet is she bright,
For in her dark she brings the mystic star,
Trembling yet strong, as is the voice of love,
From some unknown afar.