VOICES OF THE NIGHT T HYMN TO THE NIGHT Ασπασίη, τρίλλιστος. HEARD the trailing garments of the Night I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light I felt her presence, by its spell of might, The calm, majestic presence of the Night, I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, From the cool cisterns of the midnight air My spirit drank repose; The fountain of perpetual peace flows there, O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear What man has borne before! Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care, Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer! Descend with broad-winged flight, The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair, The best-beloved Night! A PSALM OF LIFE WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN SAID TO THE TELL PSALMIST ELL me not, in mournful numbers, For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal; Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Heart within, and God o'erhead! Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Let us, then, be up and doing, THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS `HERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death, THER And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, "Shall I have naught that is fair?" saith he; "Have naught but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. "My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," Where he was once a child. "They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, And the mother gave, in tears and pain, The flowers she most did love; She knew she should find them all again In the fields of light above. O, not in cruelty, not in wrath, 'Twas an angel visited the green earth, And took the flowers away. THE LIGHT OF STARS THE but not too soon; night is come, And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky. There is no light in earth or heaven And the first watch of night is given Is it the tender star of love? The star of love and dreams? O no! from that blue tent above, A hero's armor gleams. |