Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/55

 A noisy band of revellers,—vain hopes, Wild fancies, fitful joys; and there they sit In my heart's holy place, and through the night Carouse, to leave it when the cold grey dawn Gleams from the East, to tell me that the time For watching and for thought bestowed is gone.

O kind protecting Darkness! as a child Flies back to bury in his mother's lap His shame and his confusion, so to thee, O Mother Night, come I! within the folds Of thy dark robe hide thou me close; for I So long, so heedless, with external things Have played the liar, that whate'er I see, E'en these white glimmering curtains, yon bright stars, Which to the rest rain comfort down, for me Smiling those smiles, which I may not return, Or frowning frowns of fierce triumphant malice, As angry claimants or expectants sure Of that I promised and may not perform Look me in the face! hide me, Mother Night!

more the wonted road I tread, Once more dark heavens above me spread,