06 November 2013

Night Song - An 1858 Poem

By Willie E. Pabor.
The evening's soft shimmer
Is falling around —
And dew, like a mantle,
Descends on the ground.
The last gentle sunbeam
Has faded away —
Which tinged for a moment,
Blade, blossom and spray.
The robin's last carol
Has died on the air,
Like the incense of south,
As offered in prayer.
The dove and the blue bird
Have sunk in their nest,
Their twitter is silenced,
They're safely at rest.
The glade and the heather,
In silence serene,
Rest under the moonbeams
That fall on the scene.
The rill's gentle ripple
Sounds soft on the ear,
Like the sigh that succeeds
The fall of a tear.
The far distant murmur
Of Ocean is borne
On the breath of the wind
Through the silence forlorn;
And far to the nor'ward
Aurora appears,
Line the Genii of love
To calm all our fears.
The sigh of the mourner
Is stifled and low,
For the angel of sleep Is staying all woe.
The head of the sleeper
Calm halos surround,
For angels, good angels,
In vigils are found.
Oh! great is the Author,
The God we adore —
And may mortals bless Him
And prairie Him the more
Who gives us all blessings
That hover around,
And watches the sparrow
That falls to the ground.
August 5, 1858. American Volunteer 45(8): 1. Issued at Carlisle, Pennsylvania.