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.