THE moon has left the sky, love, <br />The stars are hiding now, <br />And frowning on the world, love, <br />Night bares her sable brow. <br />The snow is on the ground, love, <br />And cold and keen the air is. <br />I'm singing here to you, love; <br />You're dreaming there in Paris. <br />But this is Nature's law, love, <br />Though just it may not seem, <br />That men should wake to sing, love; <br />While maidens sleep and dream. <br />Them care may not molest, love, <br />Nor stir them from their slumbers, <br />Though midnight find the swain, love. <br />Still halting o'er his numbers. <br />I watch the rosy dawn, love, <br />Come stealing up the east, <br />While all things round rejoice, love, <br />That Night her reign has ceased. <br />The lark will soon be heard, love, <br />And on his way be winging; <br />When Nature's poets wake, love, <br />Why should a man be singing?<br /><br />Paul Laurence Dunbar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/night-of-love/
