MIDNIGHT — BY THE OPEN WINDOW

How rapt the sleeping stillness of the night —

Incomparably close and vast... One might

Hear the tense silence in the little street

Reaching to heaven, where it swells and breaks

Into moon-music and star-song that makes

My senses bend and sway, as waving wheat

Trembles before the wind's majestic feet;

Trembles with happy fear and numb delight.

How sharp the silence... like a sword to smite

Brittle security and iron aches;

A soundless and imperative blast that wakes

Undreamed of powers, terrible and sweet...

While God comes down, roused to the jubilant fight;

Roused from the sleepy comfort of His seat.