The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the… - Francis William Bourdillon

The night has a thousand eyes
And the day but one
Yet the light of the bright world dies
with the dying sun.

I walk as one unclothed of flesh, I wash my spirit clean; I see old miracles afresh, And wonders yet unseen. I will not leave Thee till Thou give Some word whereby my soul may live! I listened — but no voice I heard; I looked — no likeness saw; Slowly the joy of flower and bird Did like a tide withdraw; And in the heaven a silent star Smiled on me, infinitely far.

Sudden thy silent beauty on me shone, Fair as the moon had given thee all her spell. Then, as Endymion had found on earth, In unchanged beauty but in fashion changed, Her whom I loved so long; so felt I then, Not that a new love in my heart had birth, But that the old, that far from reach had ranged, Was now on earth, and to be loved of men.

As strong, as deep, as wide as is the sea, Though by the wind made restless as the wind, By billows fretted and by rocks confined, So strong, so deep, so wide my love for thee.