How lovely is the heaven of this night

How lovely is the heaven of this night,

How deadly still its earth! The forest brute

Has crept into his cave, and laid himself

Where sleep has made him harmless like the lamb.

The horrid snake, his venom now forgot,

Is still and innocent as the honied flower

Under his head: and man, in whom are met

Leopard and snake, and all the gentleness

And beauty of the young lamb and the bud,

Has let his ghost out, put his thoughts aside

And lent his senses unto death himself.