Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1827.pdf/9



But I bade her eyelids close 'Neath a sweet dream's gentle sway,— False, but yet less false than those Which the maiden dreamed by day.

I have seen the iron brow Grow yet darker in its rest; While the flushed cheek's angry glow Told what lurked in the dark breast.

I have entered the drear cell, Where the pallid murderer past Hours whose anguish none may tell, Yet clung to them as his last.

I have looked on craft and crime In the hearts of youth and age: O Night! thine's fearful time— Mine a weary pilgrimage!

Better love I sweet noontide, Haunting the blue hyacinth bell, Where the silver waters glide— Where the falling dew-drops dwell.

Welcome to the morning hours! Welcome to the rising sun! I may now go haunt the flowers,— Joy! my human task is done. L.E. L.