TO NIGHT
I
WIFTLY walk over the western wave,
Spirit of Night!
Out of the misty eastern cave,
Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,
Which make thee terrible and dear,—
Swift be thy flight.
II
Wrap thy form in a mantle gray,
Star-inwrought!
Blind with thine hair the eyes of - Day; Io
Kiss her until she be wearied out,
Then wander o'er cityt and sea, and land,
Touching all with thine opiate wand—
Come, long-sought!
Ill
When I arose and saw the dawn, *5
I sigh'd for thee;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,
And the weary Day turned to his rest,
Lingering like an unloved guest, 20
I sigh'd for thee :
IV
Thy brother Death came, and cried,
'Wouldst thou me?'
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