The night is still;—the void remembers God,
And star vibrates to star with speaking beams.
A wondrous glory moves across the sky;
Soft sleeps the earth in dove-grey azure light.
Why aches my heart? Why troubled thus am I?
What wait I for, what grieve I for, this night?
No more from life can I expect to gain,
And for the “has been” it were vain to weep;
I simply seek repose, release from pain,
And fain would rest, forgetting all, in sleep.