| William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909. | | | | To Night | | By Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822) |
| | | SWIFTLY walk over the western wave, | |
| Spirit of Night! | |
| Out of the misty eastern cave, | |
| Where, all the long and lone daylight, | |
| Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear, | 5 |
| Which make thee terrible and dear,— | |
| Swift be thy flight! | |
| |
| Wrap thy form in a mantle gray, | |
| Star-inwrought! | |
| Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day; | 10 |
| Kiss her until she be wearied out, | |
| Then wander o’er city, and sea, and land | |
| Touching all with thine opiate wand— | |
| Come, long sought! | |
| |
| When I arose and saw the dawn, | 15 |
| I sighed for thee; | |
| When light rode high, and the dew was gone, | |
| And noon lay heavy on flower and tree, | |
| And the weary Day turned to his rest, | |
| Lingering like an unloved guest, | 20 |
| I sighed for thee. | |
| |
| Thy brother Death came, and cried, | |
| Wouldst thou me? | |
| Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, | |
| Murmured like a noontide bee, | 25 |
| Shall I nestle near thy side? | |
| Wouldst thou me?—And I replied, | |
| No, not thee! | |
| |
| Death will come when thou art dead, | |
| Soon, too soon— | 30 |
| Sleep will come when thou art fled; | |
| Of neither would I ask the boon | |
| I ask of thee, belovèd Night— | |
| Swift be thine approaching flight, | |
| Come soon, soon! | 35 | | | |
|
|
