NIGHT.
Reading edition
———
BY MISS AUGUSTA. C. TWIGGS.
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Brightly the moonshine
Gleams on the flower,
Sweetly the woodbine
Twines round the bower;
Lowly the lover
Whispers his love,
Angel forms hover
Around from above.
Purple-robed foxglove
Is deep in the dell,
Where the night-fays love
To wind their dark spell;
Beauty is hurled
O’er meadow and lea,
The sails are all furled,
The ship sleeps at sea.
The night-breeze now sighs
So sweet and so sad;
Bright gems deck the skies,
So blue and so glad;
The lapwing that brushed
The dew from the hill,
Now sleeps—all is hushed,
’Cept the laughing rill.
Moonlight’s soft glances
On every thing smile,
Pure water dances
Out laughing the while;
The cricket’s chirp shrill
Most merrily sounds,
The fisher’s barque still
O’er moonlit wave bounds.
Trees bathed in moonbeams
Wave gracefully low,
With beauty all teems
’Neath its silvery glow;
All nature’s at prayer.
The holy thoughts rise,
On wings of the air,
Up, up to the skies.
The cricket has hushed
Now his chirp so sweet.
Rare perfume has gushed
From the new-cut wheat;
The lily has bent
Down its head in sleep,
Its odor is lent
To the winds to keep.
Mortals are slumb’ring,
Long hours fly past,
Old Time is numb’ring
The seconds so fast,
Fears him no mortal,
For slumber has tight
Closed the portal
Of thought—it is Night.