The Nevada journal., 1855-08-31
Night.
ooh lovely nightl from thee learn to bear
What man has borne before
Thou layest thy finger on the lips of care
And they complain no mofe.h


Thou layest thy finger the lips Of care
And they complain mofe.s -.4-
The glories of the golden dawn, the
splendors of MONDAY, the fading light of
evening, and the holy calm of twilight,
have awakened the melodies of many a
sweet Tyre; but dearer to me, is the strain
of that poet who has caught the sweet,
yet solemn voices of the night True it
is, that, "day unto day uttereth speech''-
its language, from the moment of its glad
birth to its calm decline, is praise most ell
oquent, to Him who scatters the cheering
beams over all lands, bidding earth and all
her tribes rejoice in His radiant smile
But, it is not less so that might unto night
showeth knowledge" And may my ear
and my heart ever be open to its solemn
voices And while Pm now writing, it is
night solemn night. The broad eye of
day has closed, and all its joyous sights
and sounds have departed majestic
gloom broods over all things Night has
wrapped in her oblivious mantle the gold
en- glories and splendor of days bright ru-
Ter, and naught breaks the fearful contrast,
save the twinkling of some far off star,
whose feeble rays remind us that light has
been.
And, yet, the night is not wholly un-
lovely, or unloved for, when the day is
past, meditation delights to pursue her
task beneath her shadowing wing. When
are the woods more solemn, than when
darkness broods over the thick foliage, and
the night winds, in ftful gusts, sway the
outspreading branches of the forest trees 7
1t is such time as this that suits the spir-
it that has drank deeply of the cup of sor-
row and those gloomy sights are sweeter
| than music to the ears of those who have
been satiated with the fulsome and IN
meaning adulation of false, pretending
world; for the mind finds in the forest
gloom, and the night winds sigh, something
in unison with the sombre thoughts that
are dwelling within.
The thoughts, too, at such a season, are
not drawn aside by the multitude of OBJ
jects which bright day presents, but the
mind is turned in upon itself. Its own
acts are the objects of scrutiny The
emotions that lurk in the deep recesses of
the soul, are brought under strict review !;
passion is cooled, reason triumphs, and
thought for the moment is supreme
Night is also the time for self-examina-
ton. The acts of the day then present
themselves before the mind for judgment
Conscience stamps its approval or condem-
nation on every action and, by its i'm
partial voice, we are taught to improve the
future by the follies and errors ofthe past.
Night is the time for devotion. The sol
emn sky, with all its cleaning fires, and
the awful silence which prevails, press holy
feelings on the soul-thcse are feelings
that prompt man to bow and humbly wor-
ship for, at such season, the world is
shut out, and man, cut off from the throng
of his followers, stands alone with God
How important then, that sin should be
confessed, ere sleep be invited Night is
the time for music's soft strain Its notes
breaking upon the stiffness which reigns
around, seem like the voices of far off an
gels, and every pulsation fthe heart beats
IN unison with their song. The mind too,
then, is better suited to the reception oi
holy impressions: and oft, at such sea-
son, we seem borne away from earth, and
to stand with the eternal harpers near the
heavenly throne.
Let us then improve its pensive gloom
It's solemn silence. Let music swel-let
prayers OF our sainted mothers rise-let
thought be free to range through the vast
empire assigned by the Creator, and we
shall have abundant reason to thank God
for night, with its countless stars that SC
thickly stud the vaulted arch Of heaven.
But dear me, see how time has sped
since L began to write pale Cynthia,
which was then arising, has pursued its
traekless course in the outsprcad canopy:
uatil she is waning low in the distant west,
and continues only to shine with its pale
and lessenlng rays till almost lost to view,
and my candle too, has burnt low in its
socket, which forcibly reminds me that
time Is fast feeting, and the small hours
of the morning are close at hand.