Thomas Hood

Midnight

Unfathomable Night! how dost thou sweep
  Over the flooded earth, and darkly hide
  The mighty city under thy full tide;
Making a silent palace for old Sleep,
Like his own temple under the hush'd deep,
  Where all the busy day he doth abide,
  And forth at the late dark, outspreadeth wide

His dusky wings, whence the cold waters sweep!
How peacefully the living millions lie!
  Lull'd unto death beneath his poppy spells;
There is no breath--no living stir--no cry
No tread of foot--no song--no music-call--
  Only the sound of melancholy bells--
The voice of Time--survivor of them all!