Night and ist dews come silently to earth,
Like kindred mourners to the grave of Day;
The stars look on with pale and throbbing ray,
As if through tears to watch them on their way:
O holy Night! what thoughts awake to birth,
That slumber in the day, amid its din
And restless strife for gain, - its glare and sin!
But Night! care-soothing Night! – O, I would win
Thy crown of peace, and wear it on my brow;
Here, at thy starry throne I bend my knee,
All weak and humbled. I look up to thee,
And bless thee for the joy thou giv’st me now, -
A joy so hushed and deep, I tremble, lest
Dream-like, it fade away within my breast!
Like kindred mourners to the grave of Day;
The stars look on with pale and throbbing ray,
As if through tears to watch them on their way:
O holy Night! what thoughts awake to birth,
That slumber in the day, amid its din
And restless strife for gain, - its glare and sin!
But Night! care-soothing Night! – O, I would win
Thy crown of peace, and wear it on my brow;
Here, at thy starry throne I bend my knee,
All weak and humbled. I look up to thee,
And bless thee for the joy thou giv’st me now, -
A joy so hushed and deep, I tremble, lest
Dream-like, it fade away within my breast!