Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Upon the cunning loom of thought
We weave our fancies, so and so.

Upon the cunning loom of thought
We weave our fancies, so and so.

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.

Good night! I have to say good night,
To such a host of peerless things!

Good night! I have to say good night,
To such a host of peerless things!

Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows
In yonder West: the fair, frail palaces,
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Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows
In yonder West: the fair, frail palaces,
The fading Alps and archipelagoes,
And great cloud-continents of sunset-seas.

Dear Lord, though I be changed to senseless clay,
And serve the Potter as he turn his wheel,
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Dear Lord, though I be changed to senseless clay,
And serve the Potter as he turn his wheel,
I thank Thee for the gracious gift of tears!