Classic Poem

The darkness falls on wood and field,
On lofty peak, on silent sea,
The infant Moon and Planets yield
A faint and feeble brilliancy.

Cans't thou behold the look and shape
Of mount and main, of wold and wood?
The morrow's sun, o'er sea and cape,
Will show them out, both plain and good.

Time darkens all to mortal eyes
Save what faint reason's stars illume:
But when Eternity shall rise,
All shall their shapes and hues assume.