English Poetry II: From Collins to Fitzgerald.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14. |
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| 493. At the Mid Hour of Night |
| | | Thomas Moore (1779–1852) |
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| AT the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly | |
| To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye; | |
| And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air | |
| To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there | |
| And tell me our love is remember’d even in the sky! | 5 |
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| Then I sing the wild song it once was rapture to hear | |
| When our voices, commingling, breathed like one on the ear; | |
| And as Echo far off through the vale my sad orison rolls, | |
| I think, O my Love! ’tis thy voice, from the Kingdom of Souls | |
| Faintly answering still the notes that once were so dear. | 10 |
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