Thibodaux minerva. [volume] (Thibodaux, La.) 18??-1858, 1855-04-14
Night.-BY MARIAN.

How lovely is night, starry summer night,
when peace, and quiet, take the place Of the busy
day. Oh, it is sweet to one of 1neditative mind,
to muse away the twilight hour to behold the
stars, one by one, come out, and the moon ride
high, in her majesty. 1t lifts the soul to God, it
brings one in communion with the Author of all
things, whom
Sun, and moon, and stars, and seas obey"
How welcome is night to the weary. Who
has not felt, after the labor Of wearisome day,
how refreshing it is to lay the tired limbs upon
our beds, to seek the pillow Of repose, to forget
our cares, our troubles, our disadvantages, and
sleep calmly and sweetly as all infants Sleep
Night is the time for dreams when our sleeping
and waking thought seem blended together, when
the past and the future before U.S. and visionary
forms seem fitting about our couch and lost ones
are with us, and we live over again the days of
other years, and feel the
Hopes that we're cherished in their birth,
But persisted young, like thing Of earth.''
Night is the time for toll, for intellectual toll
The student loves the night; he can then explore
the fields of science intent to find the rich trea-
sures of knowledge, with which to satisfy the as
pirations of an immortal mind. Turn thee, mis-
taken one, to the fountain of all knowledge, and
learn, that "the fear of the Lord is the beginning
of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is
understanding" Night is welcome to the sick,
and earth's weary ones, and to the homesick mind
it brings the recollection of those that we have
loved, and left, it may be, in distant land, Or
who have gone before US, to that bright land,
"Where it's summer always, and storms never come"
Fight is the time for repentance. We brood
over the many hours mis-spent, and back to our
memory comes every sins, and wrong, and unkind
word, and harsh neglect, till the stricken one will
weep, and Hope will fold her wings, and Despair's
dark cloud settle heavily over the mourner, till
the bright sun of Gods forgving love dispels our
every fear. Night is the time for prayer. Our
blessed Saviour oft withdrew from the busy throng
of men, and in a desert mountain, poured out his
agonizing prayer, and so will all do who follow
him. They will steal away at evenings hour, and
pray in solitude. Night is the time to die. When
all nature is hushed in silence, to calmly yield up
this mortal breath, to cease from sin and toll, to
leave this world Of PAIN and lie down in the grave
to sleep the sleep which knows no waking, till we
put OH immortal bloom in the paradise of God. l
love the night; music is sweetest, when borne
upon the heavy air of night;
Scare is lighter, joy is brighter,
How intensely solemn is moonlight burial,
when the fowery May turf is broken for one more
grave, and the coffined form tit may have been
dear to us) is lowered into its narrow restingpace
which may become to us hallowe ground, where
We will often come, in the pure and softened MOON
light and sit and think of them who may lie low
at our feet. And there will be night, when you
and will lie down, to never rise again. Then,
We needless followers of vanity, ye who pass your
nights in unthinkng mirth, remember, that above
the sky, in Gods book, are remembered all your
nights and days; and ye, who are ready for this
solemn tribunal, welcome each night, as one nearer
to the fruition Of your hopes, and when the night
Of death shall come, joyfully resign your feeble
breath for glorious home in the skies. Again
say, blessed night!