Page:The collected poems, lyrical and narrative, of A. Mary F. Robinson.djvu/26

 Night, clear with the moon, filled with the dreamy fire Shining in thicket and close, Fire from the lamp in his breast that the luminous fire- fly throws; Night, full of wandering light and of song, and the blossoming rose. Night, be thou my desire! Night, Angel of Night, hold me and cover me so— Open thy wings! Ah, bend above and embrace!—till I hear in the one bird that sings The throb of thy musical heart in the dusk, and the magical things Only the Night can know.