Night

by C.S. Lewis

After the fret and failure of this day,
     And weariness of thought, O Mother Night,
     Come with soft kiss to soothe our care away
     And all our little tumults set to right;
     Most pitiful of all death's kindred fair,
     Riding above us through the curtained air
     On thy dusk car, thou scatterest to the earth
     Sweet dreams and drowsy charms of tender might
     And lovers' dear delight before to-morrow's birth.
     Thus art thou wont thy quiet lands to leave
     And pillared courts beyond the Milky Way,
     Wherein thou tarriest all our solar day
     While unsubstantial dreams before thee weave
     A foamy dance, and fluttering fancies play
     About thy palace in the silver ray
     Of some far, moony globe. But when the hour,
     The long-expected comes, the ivory gates
     Open on noiseless hinge before thy bower
     Unbidden, and the jewelled chariot waits
     With magic steeds. Thou from the fronting rim
     Bending to urge them, whilst thy sea-dark hair
     Falls in ambrosial ripples o'er each limb,
     With beautiful pale arms, untrammelled, bare
     For horsemanship, to those twin chargers fleet
     Dost give full rein across the fires that glow
     In the wide floor of heaven, from off their feet
     Scattering the powdery star-dust as they go.
     Come swiftly down the sky, O Lady Night,
     Fall through the shadow-country, O most kind,
     Shake out thy strands of gentle dreams and light
     For chains, wherewith thou still art used to bind
     With tenderest love of careful leeches' art
     The bruised and weary heart
     In slumber blind.