Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882). Complete Poetical Works. 1893.
In the HarborMoonlight
A
Ascends some ruin’s haunted stair,
So glides the moon along the damp
Mysterious chambers of the air.
As if this phantom, full of pain,
Were by the crumbling walls concealed,
And at the windows seen again.
In all the splendor of her light,
She walks the terraces of cloud,
Supreme as Empress of the Night.
Objects familiar to my view;
The very pathway to my door
Is an enchanted avenue.
The elm-trees drop their curtains down;
By palace, park, and colonnade
I walk as in a foreign town.
Is clothed with a diviner air;
While marble paves the silent street
And glimmers in the empty square.
The common life of every day;
Only the spirit glorifies
With its own tints the sober gray.
Our eyes to heaven, if we are blind;
We see but what we have the gift
Of seeing; what we bring we find.