IN THE NIGHT.
As I enter the shadowy portals of Night,
To stray in her solitudes vast. Pale Memory whiipers a vanished delight, And summoDs a shade from the past. Lo! my Marguerite plays; the sweet passion and
skill That we loved speak again in her art, How the strains of her violin sound at her will,
Like the chords of a human heart I It is only a'dream, such as travellers say Thirst gives in the lands of the sun ; And the sad, sweet faoe and the form pass away—
The music and glory are done I I call on my love in grief's passionate words, If only one moment, to stay ; But all that I bear is the twitter of birds
That wake In the morning grey. Where the far distant Alps seem a oloud land of
snow, Ate a lake, a valley so fair, And a sculptured stone, with its record of vroe, To tell she ii sleeping there.
—Chamber's Journal.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW18910723.2.98
Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 1952, 23 July 1891, Page 37
Word Count
164IN THE NIGHT. Otago Witness, Issue 1952, 23 July 1891, Page 37
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