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| ★ wanayoo — archive 1999 http://bartleby.com/101/107.html | Nouvelle recherche | Portail wanayoo |
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| O COME, soft rest of cares! come, Night! | |
| Come, naked Virtue's only tire, | |
| The reapèd harvest of the light | |
| Bound up in sheaves of sacred fire. | |
| Love calls to war: | 5 |
| Sighs his alarms, | |
| Lips his swords are, | |
| The field his arms. | |
| Come, Night, and lay thy velvet hand | |
| On glorious Day's outfacing face; | 10 |
| And all thy crownèd flames command | |
| For torches to our nuptial grace. | |
| Love calls to war: | |
| Sighs his alarms, | |
| Lips his swords are, | 15 |
| The field his arms. |