Lo, it is dark, <br />Save for the crystal spark <br />Of a virgin star o'er the purpling lea, <br />Or the fine, keen, silvery grace of a young <br />Moon that is hung <br />O'er the priest-like firs by the sea; <br />Lo, it is still, <br />Save for the wind of the hill, <br />And the luring, primeval sounds that fill <br />The moist and scented air <br />'Tis the truce o' night, away with unrest and care! <br /> <br />Now we may forget <br />Love's fever and hate's fret, <br />Forget to-morrow and yesterday; <br />And the hopes we buried in musky gloom <br />Will come out of their tomb, <br />Warm and poignant and gay; <br />We may wander wide, <br />With only a wish for a guide, <br />By heath and pool where the Little Folk bide, <br />We may share in fairy mirth, <br />And partake once more in the happy thoughts of earth. <br /> <br />Lo, we may rest <br />Here on her cradling breast <br />In the wonderful time of the truce o' night, <br />And sweet things that happened long ago, <br />Softly and slow, <br />Will creep back to us in delight; <br />And our dreams may be <br />Compact of young melody, <br />Just such as under the Eden Tree, <br />'Mid the seraphim's lullabies, <br />Eve's might have been ere banished from Paradise.<br /><br />Lucy Maud Montgomery<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-truce-of-night/
