Hangs stormed with stars the night,
Deep over deep,
A majesty, a might,
To feel and keep.
Ah! what is such and such,
Love, canst thou tell?
That shrinks — though‘ tis not much —
To weep farewell.
That hates the dawn and lark;
Would have the wail,—
Sobbed through the ceaseless dark,—
O’ the nightingale.
Yes, earth, thy life were worth
Not much to me,
Were there not after earth
Eternity.
God gave thee life to keep —
And what hath life?—
Love, faith, and care, and sleep
Where dreams are rife.
Death's sleep, whose shadows start
The tears in eyes
Of love, that fill the heart
That breaks and dies.
And faith is never given
Without some care,
That leadeth us to heaven
By ways of prayer.
The nightingale and dark
Are thine then here;
Beyond, the light and lark
Eternal there.