Classic Poem

Lovely was the night of May,
Silvery cloudlets flying,
Seem'd like the fair spring-tide array,
Merrily onward hieing.

Meadow and grove in slumber lay,
Every path forsaken;
Nothing but the moon's white ray
Upon the roads did waken.

Softly and low the Zephyrs crept,
And with foot-pause hushing,
Through sleep's silent chamber stept
Spring's sweet children blushing.

The rivulet sang innerly,
And through the open spaces,
Breathed abroad deliciously,
The blossoming embraces.

But of far rougher stuff my Postillion was born,
He crackt his whip, and blowing,
O'er hill and dale to the blast of his horn,
I heard the echoes going.

And with a rattling, wild delight,
My four swift horses bounding,
Flew through the dreamy odorous night,
Their measured hoofs resounding.

Forest and plain in rapid flight,
No sooner seen than banish'd;
And vision-like, with glances bright,
The peaceful village vanish'd.

Right in the heart of the May-tide joy,
A small church-yard was standing,
That fixt the hasty traveller's eye,
Earnest thoughts commanding.

Against the mountain's misty gloom,
The pallid walls were leaning;
Christ's crucifix rose up in dumb
Pathetic anguish sheening.

Silent my companion rode,
Sadder, and more slowly;
Check'd the swift steed he bestrode,
Gazed at the picture holy.

‘Here must I halt, wheel and horse,
Have no cause to fear me;
Yonder lies my old comrade's corse,
In the cool earth so near me.

‘O such a jolly fellow!—Sir,
'Tis an eternal pity!
None blew the horn with such a stir,
Or rang so clear a ditty.

‘Here do I rest each time I pass,
His favourite tune repeating,
Who sleeps so calm beneath the grass,
And give him trusty greeting.’

And to the white churchyard he sent
Songs of the merry wayfaring,
That in the peace of the grave they went,
To his old friend repairing.

And the far echo's thin, clear tone
Came from the mountains ringing,
As though the dead Postillion
With his loved songs were singing.

Full gallop, then, we sped away,
By fields and leaping fountains;
Long within my ears still lay,
That echo from the mountains.