The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.
The night has a thousand eyes, The mind has a thousand eyes, |
The gray sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low; And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.... |
At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly |
Vous n’avez pas eu toute patience, Vous n’avez pas eu toute la douceur, |
There are harps that complain to the presence of night, |
I heard the trailing garments of the Night I felt her presence, by its spell of might, |
in the still, star-lit night, A shade fell on the grass; |
I feel the breath of the summer night, The white moths flutter about the lamp, |
The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home; |
When stars pursue their solemn flight, Or lovers... |