<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=450387" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Truce of Night</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">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! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">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. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">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.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lucy+Maud+Montgomery">Lucy Maud Montgomery</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=450387" data-title="The Truce of Night de Lucy Maud Montgomery" data-description="Lo, it is dark, Save for the crystal spark Of a virgin star o'er the purpling lea, Or the fine, keen, silvery grace of a young Moon that is hung O'er the priest-like firs by the sea; Lo, it is still, Save for the wind of the hill, And the luring, ..."></div> </div> </div>

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