How beautiful is Night

"How beautiful is Night!"
A smile is on her brow;
Her eyes of dewy light
Look out, serenely bright,
Upon the wave below:
The waters, in their flow,
Just murmur, and the air
Hath scarce a breath to show
A spirit moving there:
The world is purely fair;
The winds are hushed and still;
The moonlight on the hill
Is sleeping, and her ray
Along the falling rill,
In lightly dancing play,
Soft-winding steals away:
A cool and silent breath,
From water-falls and streams,
Comes o'er my ear, like dreams,
Which, in the pictured death
Of slumber, on the soul
Delicious whispers roll;
And lead, in mazy light,
Before the spirit's eye,
Sweet visions of delight,
In trains of beauty, by.—
How fair and calm is Night!
Amid the dewy bowers
She guides the silent hours,
With fairy steps, along,
And round the floating throng
A cloudy vesture throws;
And loosely on the air
She spreads their raven hair
To every wind that blows:
They seem to hover by
Between me and the sky,
Each with a golden zone,
A waving robe of snow,
A veil, whose folds are thrown
In undulating flow,
Like clouds, when breezes blow;
So to my fancy's view
The sylphid people play
Around the vaulted blue,
And then they melt away,
And leave the sky all bright,
With lamps of living light;
And as I fondly gaze,
Where countless cressets blaze,
I look to Heaven and say—
"How beautiful is Night!"