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The Song of Night.
BY MRS. HEMANS.
Abwarts wend' ich mich zu der heiligen, unaussprechlichen, geleimnissvollen Nacht. Fernab liegt die Welt, in eine tiefe Gruft versenkt; in den Saiten der Brust weht tiefe Wehmuth. Fernen der Erinnerung, der Kindheit Traume, der ganzen Lebens Freuden und Hoffnungen kommen in grauen Kleidern, wie Abendnebel nach der Sonne Untergang.
Novalis.
I come to thee, O Earth!
With all my gifts:—for every flower sweet dew,
In bell, and urn, and chalice, to renew
The glory of its birth.
Not one which glimmering lies
Far amidst folding hills or forest-leaves,
But, through its veins of beauty, so receives
A spirit of fresh dyes.
I come with every star:
Making thy streams, that on their noon-day track
Gave but the moss, the reed, the lily back,
Mirrors of Worlds afar.
I come with Peace; I shed
Sleep through thy wood-walks o'er the honey-bee,
The lark's triumphant voice, the fawn's young glee,
The hyacinth's meek head.
