Classic Poem

Cradled within the arms of night,
The unquiet day is lulled asleep
The weary hours have taken flight,
Leaving their shadows long and deep,
That spread upon the earth below,
Soft as the falling of the snow.

Betwixt the glimmer and the gloom,
The twilight beameth tenderly
In dim rays o'er the dusky room,
Like hope of immortality,
That o'er the earth-bound spirit falls,
And shineth through life's prison walls.

Our converse is of earthly things:
Our little world of joys is pure,
And silvery laughter peals and rings,
Like flute-sounds in an overture,
Swelling with sudden rise aloft,
Or toning to a cadence soft.

The firelight dances on the walls,
In wavering streams of ruby light;
A human ray that gladly falls,
Cheering the mellow hours of night,
While even hurrying Time does seem
To linger by the lambent gleam!

No shadow in our dear retreat,
Nor heart-glooms, like the night-mists rise;
Love speaketh from the laughter sweet,
Love danceth in the sparkling eyes!
While in the radiance on the wall,
God's love, divine, seems over all!

The wrathful storm tramps wildly by
The desert waste of snows abroad;
The keen winds rush with sullen cry,
Like shrieks of horror on the road:
Within, the lustre of a light,
Like Israel's pillar-flame at night!

No mystic seer looks upward now
In stars to read his destiny:
We watch the flame's pure vestal glow
Shine like a beacon, steadfastly,
And read our fireside cheering lore
Imaged in light upon the floor.