how solid bright the burning night! how crisp and fierce the silver gleam. where upon above the pinetopped dome of stars and meteors watchers dream. while off in towers, far west and east, and north the wind doth blow. and light a candle to remind (the) weary travelers (far along the midnight road) some nights are windows to your very soul. the perfumed dark, quiet and calm with its many small wonders hushed the world, turns in fits, while stars themselves would labor in slumber. to twinkle on like gemstones, that adorn the careful sky. turning slowly, whirling slowly, the carousel of nights. gives gentle pause, unobserved, as if the seasoned woods could sigh. whos depths for miles, miles, undisturbed, contemplate forever in the span of a sleep, tired with the night. pondering the dawn.