thoughtful eyes, the airy step, and the lightly-closed, melodious
lips. Like a king of terrestrial nature it calls every power to
countless transformations, it forms and dissolves innumerable
alliances and surrounds every earthly creature with its heavenly
effulgence. Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the
realms of the world.

Downward I turn my eyes to Night, the holy, ineffable, mysterious. Far
below lies the world, sunk in a deep vault; void and lonely is its
place. Deep melancholy is wafted through the chords of the breast. In
drops of dew I'd fain sink down and mingle with the ashes. Far-off
memories, desires of youth, dreams of childhood, long life's brief
joys and vain hopes appear in gray garments like the evening mist
after sunset. Light has pitched its gay tents in other regions. Will
it perchance never return to its children, who are waiting for it with
the faith of innocence?

What is it that suddenly wells up so forebodingly from beneath the
heart and smothers the gentle breath of melancholy? Dark Night, dost
thou also take pleasure in us? What hast thou beneath thy mantle which
touches my soul with invisible force? Precious balsam drops from the
bunch of poppies in thy hand. Thou raisest up the heavy wings of the
soul; vaguely and inexpressibly we feel ourselves moved. Joyously
fearful, I see an earnest face, which gently and reverently bends over
me, and amid endlessly entangled locks shows the sweet youth of the
mother. How poor and childish does Light seem to me now! How joyful
and blessed the departure of day! Only for that reason, then, because
Night turns thy servants from thee, didst thou scatter in the wide
expanse of space the shining stars, to make known thine omnipotence
and thy return, during the periods of thine absence? More heavenly
than those twinkling stars seem to us the everlasting eyes which Night
has opened within us. Farther they see than the palest of those
numberless hosts; not needing light, they fathom the depths of a
loving heart, filling a higher space with unspeakable delight.

Praise be to the queen of the world, to the high harbinger of holy
worlds, to the fostress of blissful love! She sends thee to me, gentle
sweetheart, lovely sun of the night. Now I am awake, for I am thine
and mine; thou hast proclaimed to me that night is life and made a man
of me. Consume my body with spiritual fire, that I may ethereally
blend with thee, and then the bridal night