OH, tranquil night, what spirit keeps thee still?
Do whispering breezes taunt thy loneliness?
Or art thou, too, numb, suffering keen distress,
For want of one warm kiss to break the chill
Of patience, which pervades your watch sublime?
The stars are cold, mute company for thee,
And cheerless is the ever-moaning sea—
Long is the keep; a dreary watchman, Time.
Some soul is with you breathing out a balm,
A solace I know not tonight. What heed
Is taken of our tears which drench the sod?
Still there must be with thee a spirit calm,
Else would endurance break for aching need—
Such loneliness could not be braved by God!