Now while the night her sable veil hath spread,
And silently her resty coach doth roll,
Rousing with her from Tethys' azure bed
Those starry nymphs which dance about the pole;
While Cynthia, in purest cypress clad,
The Latmian shepherd in a trance descries,
And whiles looks pale from height of all the skies,
Whiles dyes her beauties in a bashful red;
While sleep, in triumph, closed hath all eyes,
And birds and beasts a silence sweet do keep,
And Proteus' monstrous people in the deep,
The winds and waves, husht up, to rest entice;
I wake, muse, weep, and who my heart hath slain
See still before me to augment my pain.
The First Part: Sonnet 8 - Now while the night her sable veil hath spread,
written byWilliam Henry Drummond
© William Henry Drummond