Swiftly walk over 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,
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,
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,
I sighed for thee;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,
And the weary Day turned to his rest,
Lingering like an unloved guest,
I sighed for thee.

Thy brother Death came, and cried
`Wouldst thou me?'
Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,
Murmured like a noontide bee
`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 -- 
Sleep will come when thou art fled;
Of neither would I ask the boon
I ask of thee, beloved Night -- 
Swift be thine approaching flight,
Come soon, soon!

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 958 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Percy Bysshe Shelley
Poem: To Night

There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, To Night, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Percy Bysshe Shelley with others on the Poetry Connection poetry forum!