Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Night
Into the darkness and the hush of night
       &nbsp Slowly the landscape sinks, and fades away,
       &nbsp And with it fade the phantoms of the day,
       &nbsp The ghosts of men and things, that haunt the light,
The crowd, the clamor, the pursuit, the flight,
       &nbsp The unprofitable splendor and display,
       &nbsp The agitations, and the cares that prey
       &nbsp Upon our hearts, all vanish out of sight.
The better life begins; the world no more
       &nbsp Molests us; all its records we erase
       &nbsp From the dull common-place book of our lives,
That like a palimpsest is written o'er
       &nbsp With trivial incidents of time and place,
       &nbsp And lo! the ideal, hidden beneath, revives.