Achsa White Sprague

Nov. 17, 1827 - Jul. 6, 1862


Serenade -- Good-Night

by Achsa White Sprague

Good-night, good-night! the morning star
Is growing faint and dim,
And soon those choristers, the birds,
Begin their early hymn.

The Night has drawn his mantle close,
And turns to pass away,
And just behind him as he goes,
I see the foot of Day.

Good-night, good-night! for soon the beam
Will point from off the sun,
Like sceptre of a mighty king,
To say the day's begun.

And while the darkened shadows flee,
To leave their place for day,
I too with my dark, weary heart,
Like them shall pass away.

I've watched and waited all the night,
To look on thee afar,
As Morning waits through weary hours
To gaze upon her star;

But now I know no star for me
In beauty e'er shall rise,
To shine and send a glory through
The midnight of my skies.

For me there shall no morning come,
For me there is no light;
Thou art my sun, -- thou risest not, --
And so, beloved, Good-Night!


The Poet And Other Poems.
Copyright 1864
Boston: William White And Co.,
158 Washington Street.
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