Night

By Anne Whitney

O calmly, lovingly, Night, vast and deep,
Bend round the breathing world! Thou cool-browed wife
Of fiery Day -- he, stirrer of old strife,
Thou, soother, mother, in whose heart we keep
A hiding-place to dream, to hope, to weep!
Who still exhalest in the purple sky,
The old star-bloom of immortality,
Wreathing our momentariness and sleep
With dignity so sweet and sovereign!
Happy the earth to kiss thy broidered hem!
Her weak and flagging aspirations take
New pinions in thy shadows; thou dost make
Love deeper bliss, and even care and pain
Are great and worthy, since thou touchest them.