“Oft in the stilly night”

Oft in the stilly night, Ere slumber’s chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me: The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood’s years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken. Thus in the stilly night, Ere slumber’s chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. When I remember all The friends so linked together I ’ve seen around me fall, Like leaves in wintry weather, I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed. Thus in the stilly night, Ere slumber’s chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me.

1799
Sub Title: 
Poems of Sentiment: III. Memory

More from Poet

A májusi hold csupa láng ma, szivem, lámpást visz a földi bogárka, szivem; a bércek alatt száz út csalogat, mikor álom esőz a világra, szivem! Ébredj, tündöklik az ég, gyönyöröm, üdvünk sose volna elég, gyönyöröm, s mert napja rövid legjobb, ha kicsit meglopjuk utána az éjt, gyönyöröm! Már...

GOOD reader, if you e’er have seen, When Phœbus hastens to his pillow, The mermaids with their tresses green Dancing upon the western billow; If you have seen at twilight dim, When the lone spirit’s vesper hymn Floats wild along the winding shore, The fairy train their...

Mr. Orator PUFF had two tones in his voice, The one squeaking thus, and the other down so; In each sentence he uttered he gave you your choice, For one half was B alt, and the rest G below. O! O! Orator Puff, One voice for an orator ’s surely enough. But he still talked away, spite...

Robert Emmet O, BREATHE not his name! let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonored his relics are laid; Sad, silent, and dark be the tears that we shed, As the night-dew that falls on the grave o’er his head. But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps, Shall brighten with...

From “The Fire-Worshippers” “HOW sweetly,” said the trembling maid, Of her own gentle voice afraid, So long had they in silence stood, Looking upon that moonlight flood,— “How sweetly does the moonbeam smile To-night upon yon leafy isle! Oft in my fancy’s wanderings, I ’ve wished that little...