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Poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery


The Truce of Night


Lo, it is dark,
Save for the crystal spark
Of a virgin star oer the purpling lea,
Or the fine, keen, silvery grace of a young
Moon that is hung
Oer the priest-like firs by the sea;
Lo, it is still,
Save for the wind of the hill,
And the luring, primeval sounds that fill
The moist and scented air
Tis the truce o night, away with unrest and care! 

Now we may forget 
Loves fever and hates fret, 
Forget to-morrow and yesterday; 
And the hopes we buried in musky gloom 
Will come out of their tomb, 
Warm and poignant and gay; 
We may wander wide, 
With only a wish for a guide, 
By heath and pool where the Little Folk bide, 
We may share in fairy mirth, 
And partake once more in the happy thoughts of earth. 

Lo, we may rest 
Here on her cradling breast 
In the wonderful time of the truce o night, 
And sweet things that happened long ago, 
Softly and slow, 
Will creep back to us in delight; 
And our dreams may be 
Compact of young melody, 
Just such as under the Eden Tree, 
Mid the seraphims lullabies, 
Eves might have been ere banished from Paradise.



Lucy Maud Montgomery


Lucy Maud Montgomery's other poems:
  1. In an Old Town Garden
  2. The Sea to the Shore
  3. When the Dark Comes Down
  4. When the Fishing Boats Go Out
  5. Echo Dell


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