Night
A. Mary F. Robinson
1857 to 1944
O night eternal and blue,
Holy and soft above,
You seem to lay on my forehcad
The touch of an infinite love—
The touch of a love that never
Will understand me aright—
Why should you touch me and love me,
O tender and delicate night?
O night, look in with your stars
On the wintry face of despair,
And your stars will eddy and shrivel
As leaves in a gust of the air!
A. Mary F. Robinson's Night
I am busy working to bring A. Mary F. Robinson's "Night" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about A. Mary F. Robinson's life and contributions to literature.
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