I heard the trailing garments of the Night
Sweep through her marble halls!
I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light
From the celestial walls!

I felt her presence, by its spell of might
Stoop o'er me from above;
The calm, majestic presence of the Night
As of the one I love

I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight
The manifold, soft chimes
That fill the haunted chambers of the Night
Like some old poet's rhymes

From the cool cisterns of the midnight air
My spirit drank repose;
The fountain of perpetual peace flows there, —
From those deep cisterns flows

O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear
What man has borne before!
Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care
And they complain no more

Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer!
Descend with broad-winged flight
The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair
The best-beloved Night!