The Path – October 1889

A SONNET TO NIGHT — T. H.

The spicy fragrance of the skies
     Falls through the night air on my soul,
From depths where constellations rise,
     From depths where suns unnumbered roll:
From star-laid strata—star o'er star
     Where God's great lanterns swing and sway,
Behind the "Gates of Light" ajar;
     Behind the Barrier of the Day:
And swing, and sway;—and flash their light
     Through every crevice of the night.

T. H.


The Path

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