Thomas Bailey Aldrich

What probing deep
Has ever solved the mystery of sleep?

What probing deep
Has ever solved the mystery of sleep?

Night is a stealthy, evil Raven,
Wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.

Night is a stealthy, evil Raven,
Wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.

Till then, good-night!
You wish the time were now? And I.
You do not blush to wish read more

Till then, good-night!
You wish the time were now? And I.
You do not blush to wish it so?
You would have blush'd yourself to death
To own so much a year ago.
What! both these snowy hands? ah, then
I'll have to say, Good-night again.

Hebe's here, May is here!
The air is fresh and sunny;
And the miser-bees are busy
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Hebe's here, May is here!
The air is fresh and sunny;
And the miser-bees are busy
Hoarding golden honey.

October turned by maple's leaves to gold;
The most are gone now; here and there one lingers;
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October turned by maple's leaves to gold;
The most are gone now; here and there one lingers;
Soon these will slip from the twig's weak hold,
Like coins between a dying miser's fingers.