Page:The collected poems, lyrical and narrative, of A. Mary F. Robinson.djvu/25



, still is the Night; still as the pause after pain; Still and as dear; Deep, solemn, immense ; veiling the stars in the clear Thrilling and luminous blue of the moon-shot atmosphere; Ah, could the Night remain!

Who, truly, shall say thou art sullen or dark or unseen. Thou, O heavenly Night, Clear o'er the valley of olives asleep in the quivering light. Clear o'er the pale-red hedge of the rose, and the lilies all white Down at my feet in the green?

Nay, not as the Day, thou art light, O Night, with a beam Far more dear and divine; Never the noon was blue as these tremulous heavens or thine. Pulsing with stars half seen, and vague in a pallid shine. Vague as a dream.