Classic Poem

O, why's the land so fair at night,
With silver'd edge of tree and ledge,
While weary men have shut their sight
From all the charms of shade and light?

Behold the dellside rising wide,
With woodland shades, and silver'd glades,
And see the bending river glide
With elmy meads along its side;

While birds have left the moonpal'd hedge
For shady nooks, where no one looks,
Though down below the sloping ledge,
The warbler sings among the sedge.

And oh! the owl, that prowls alone
With ugly cries, now swiftly flies
To smite from quiv'ring flesh and bone
Sweet life, the liver's very own.

But hallow we the time to love,
Nor think of strife, nor brood on life
That lives by death; but set above
The ravening owl the harmless dove.