Classic Poem

No night in Heaven! — Ah! he did not know,
That worn old Eastern saint, the tender glow
Of summer evenings in the happy West.

He had not seen the sunset smoulder low
Behind the larches on the far hill's crest,
Nor watched the rooks and daws fly home to rest

He had not known the scent of new-mown hay
In dream-like fields about the close of day.
Nor seen the hawthorns by the May moon's light.

He had not envied lovers as they stray
About the dusty lanes, where, starry white,
The dog rose throws her garlands for delight.

If he could know, as we, beloved, know
Twilight and harvest moon, he too would pray,
" Morning and noon are good but night is best —
Maker of stars! Oh! give us back the night! "