Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Percy Bysshe Shelley. 17921822612. Night
SWIFTLY walk o’er the western wave, | |
Spirit of Night! | |
Out of the misty eastern cave,— | |
Where, all the long and lone daylight, | |
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear | 5 |
Which make thee terrible and dear,— | |
Swift be thy flight! | |
Wrap thy form in a mantle grey, | |
Star-inwrought! | |
Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day; | 10 |
Kiss her until she be wearied out. | |
Then wander o’er city and sea and land, | |
Touching all with thine opiate wand— | |
Come, long-sought! | |
When I arose and saw the dawn, | 15 |
I sigh’d for thee; | |
When light rode high, and the dew was gone, | |
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree, | |
And the weary Day turn’d to his rest, | |
Lingering like an unloved guest, | 20 |
I sigh’d for thee. | |
Thy brother Death came, and cried, | |
‘Wouldst thou me?’ | |
Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, | |
Murmur’d like a noontide bee, | 25 |
‘Shall I nestle near thy side? | |
Wouldst thou me?’—And I replied, | |
‘No, not thee!’ | |
Death will come when thou art dead, | |
Soon, too soon— | 30 |
Sleep will come when thou art fled. | |
Of neither would I ask the boon | |
I ask of thee, belovèd Night— | |
Swift be thine approaching flight, | |
Come soon, soon! | 35 |