Night, sable goddess ! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world. Silence how dead! and darkness how profound! Nor eye nor listening ear an object finds ; Creation sleeps. 'Tis as the general... The poetic reciter; or, Beauties of the British poets: adapted for reading ... - Page 238 by Henry Marlen - 1838 Full view -
|