An Aurora Borealis

O STRANGE soft gleam, o ghostly dawn That never brightens unto day; Ere earth's mirk pale once more be drawn Let us look out beyond the gray. It is just midnight by the clock-- There is no sound on glen or hill, The moaning linn adown its rock Leaps, but the woods lie dark and still. Austere against the kindling sky Yon broken turret blacker grows; Harsh light, to show remorselessly Ruins night hid in kind repose! Nay, beauteous light, nay, light that fills The whole heaven like a dream of morn, As waking upon northern hills She smiles to find herself new-born,-- Strange light, I know thou wilt not stay, That many an hour must come and go Before the pale November day Break in the east, forlorn and slow. Yet blest one gleam--one gleam like this, When all heaven brightens in our sight, And the long night that was and is And shall be, vanishes in light: O blest one hour like this! to rise And see grief's shadows backward roll; While bursts on unaccustomed eyes The glad Aurora of the soul.