Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, HYMN. AT morn-at noon-at twilight dim- Now, when storms of Fate o'ercast Darkly my Present and my Past, Let my Future radiant shine With sweet hopes of thee and thine! Steals drowsily and musically Into the universal valley. The rosemary nods upon the grave; Oh, lady bright! can it be right- Flit through thy chamber in and out, And wave the curtain canopy So fitfully-so fearfully Above the close and fringed lid 'Neath which thy slumb'ring soul lies hid, That, o'er the floor and down the wall, Like ghost's the shadows rise and fall! Oh, lady dear, hast thou no fear? Why and what art thou dreaming here? The lady sleeps. Oh, may her sleep, Heaven have her in its sacred keep! This chamber changed for one more holy, This bed for one more melancholy, I pray to God that she may lie For ever with unopened eye, While the dim sheeted ghosts go by! My love, she sleeps! Oh, may her sleep As it is lasting, so be deep! Soft may the worms about her creep ! Far in the forest, dim and old, For her may some tall vault unfold— Of her grand family funerals- |