At Midnight

Cast round me now your arms’ cool wreath of white Forget the day’s far wakening, and lie More close! Without, the weary world goes by, Hawking its cheats and nostrums in the night Be wise a-sudden, giving not a glance To any anodyne its dupes prescribe Art, lore, gold, fame and power, each tinsel bribe That turns the flesh from its inheritance. This is the only wealth, the only goal Where one shall stand unhoodwinked for a space, Gazing upon the Truth with tranquil face,— Daring to show Life’s pitfalls to the soul. Take payment now for all accurséd hours, All pain and waste and dreariness, all care! These are the moments purchased by despair, And this the joy to which thy sorrow flow’rs. Wrench from the niggard Fates thy ransomed bliss! Accept the breathless transports that atone, With toils the gods were glad to find their own, And seas of sense that thunder at a kiss.