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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354728" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Night Quatrains</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE Sun is set, and gone to sleep <br>With the fair princess of the deep, <br>Whose bosom is his cool retreat, <br>When fainting with his proper heat; <br>His steeds their flaming nostrils cool <br>In spume of the cerulean pool; <br>Whilst the wheels dip their hissing naves<br>[hubs] <br>Deep in Columbus's western waves. <br>From whence great rolls of smoke arise <br>To overshade the beauteous skies, <br>Who bid the World's bright eye adieu <br>In gelid tears of falling dew. <br>And now from the Iberian vales <br>Night's sable steeds her chariot hales, <br>Where double cypress curtains screen <br>The gloomy melancholic queen. <br>These, as they higher mount the sky, <br>Ravish all colour from the ey, <br>And leave it but an useless glass<br>, [mirror] <br>Which few or no reflections grace. <br>The crystal arch o'er Pinduss crown <br>Is on a sudden dusky grown, <br>And all's with fun'ral black o'erspread, <br>As if the Day, which sleeps, were dead. <br>No ray of Light the heart to cheer, <br>But little twinkling stars appear, <br>Which like faint dying embers lie, <br>Fit not to work nor travel by. <br>Perhaps to him they torches are, <br>Who guide Night's sov'reign's drowsy car, <br>And him they may befriend so near, <br>But us they neither light nor cheer. <br>Or else those little sparks of Light <br>Are nails that tire the wheels of Night, <br>Which to new stations still are brought <br>As they roll o'er the gloomy vault, <br>Or nails that arm the horse's hoof <br>Which trampling o'er the marble roof <br>And striking fire in the air, <br>We mortals call a shooting star. <br>That's all the Light we now receive, <br>Unless what belching Vulcans give, <br>And those yield such a kind of Light <br>As adds more horror to the Night. <br>Nyctimine now freed from Day, <br>From sullen bush flies out to prey, <br>And does with ferret note proclaim <br>Th'arrival of th'usurping Dame. <br>The rail now cracks in fields and meads, <br>Toads now forsake the nettle-beds, <br>The tim'rous hare goes to relief, <br>And wary men bolt out the thief. <br>The fire's new rak'd, and hearth swept clean <br>By Madge, the dirty kitchen quean*, [servant] <br>The safe is lock'd, the mouse-trap set, <br>The leaven laid, and bucking wet. <br>Now in false floors and roofs above, <br>The lustful cats make ill-tun'd love, <br>The ban-dog on the dunghill lies, <br>And watchful nurse sings lullabies. <br>Philomel chants it whilst she bleeds, <br>The bittern booms it in the reeds, <br>And Reynard ent'ring the back yard, <br>The Capitolian cry is heard. <br>The Goblin now the fool alarms, <br>Hags meet to mumble o'er their charms; <br>The Night Mare rides the dreaming ass, <br>And Fairies trip it on the grass. <br>The drunkard now supinely snores, <br>His load of ale sweats through his pores, <br>Yet when he wakes the swine shall find <br>A cropala remains behind. <br>The sober now and chaste are blest <br>With sweet, and with refreshing rest, <br>And to sound sleeps they've best pretence, <br>Have greatest share of Innocence. <br>We should so live then that we may <br>Fearless put off our clots and clay, <br>And travel through Death's shades to Light, <br>For every Day must have its Night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charles+Cotton">Charles Cotton</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354728" data-title="The Night Quatrains de Charles Cotton" data-description="THE Sun is set, and gone to sleep 
With the fair princess of the deep, 
Whose bosom is his cool retreat, 
When fainting with his proper heat; 
His steeds their flaming nostrils cool 
In spume of the cerulean pool; 
Whilst the wheels dip their hiss..."></div>
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