THE NIGHT-WIND

    In summer's mellow¹ midnight, A cloudless moon shone through Our open parlour window, And rose-trees wet with dew.

    I sat in silent musing²； The soft wind waved my hair； It told me heaven was glorious, And sleeping earth was fair.

    I needed not its breathing To bring such thoughts to me； But still it whispered lowly, How dark the woods will be！

    "The thick leaves in my murmur³ Are rustling⁴ like a dream, And all their myriad⁵ voices Instinct with spirit seem."

    I said, "Go, gentle singer, Thy wooing voice is kind： But do not think its music Has power to reach my mind.

    "Play with the scented⁶ flower, The young tree's supple⁷ bough⁸, And leave my human feelings In their own course to flow."

    The wanderer would not heed⁹ me； Its kiss grew warmer still. "O come！" it sighed so sweetly； "I'll win thee 'gainst thy will.

    "Were we not friends from childhood？ Have I not loved thee long？ As long as thou, the solemn night, Whose silence wakes my song.

    "And when thy heart is resting Beneath the church-aisle stone, I shall have time for mourning, And THOU for being alone."

    In these stanzas¹⁰ a louder gale¹¹ has roused the sleeper¹² on her pillow： the wakened soul struggles to blend with the storm by which it is swayed：-

    Ay——there it is！ it wakes to-night Deep feelings I thought dead； Strong in the blast——quick gathering¹³ light—— The heart's flame kindles¹⁴ red. "Now I can tell by thine altered cheek, And by thine eyes' full gaze, And by the words thou scarce dost speak, How wildly fancy plays. "Yes——I could swear that glorious wind Has swept the world aside, Has dashed its memory from thy mind Like foam-bells from the tide： "And thou art now a spirit pouring Thy presence into all： The thunder of the tempest's roaring, The whisper of its fall： "An universal influence, From thine own influence free； A principle of life——intense—— Lost to mortality.

    "Thus truly, when that breast is cold, Thy prisoned soul shall rise； The dungeon¹⁵ mingle¹⁶ with the mould—— The captive with the skies. Nature's deep being, thine shall hold, Her spirit all thy spirit fold, Her breath absorb thy sighs. Mortal！ though soon life's tale is told； Who once lives, never dies！"