by Arlo Bates (1850 - 1918)

Oh, let night speak of me, for day
Language: English 
Oh, let [night]1 speak of me, for day 
  Knows not how breaks with woe my heart;
Day knows not how I mournful stray,
  Weeping for thee, so dear thou art. 

The sad night weeps with me, and lays 
  Her tear-wet cheek against my own;
Although I walk in sun-lit ways,
  Still doth my heart in darkness moan. 

The night shall speak of me, and say 
  All things to thee I dare not show;
And to thy dreams my love display,
  Till thou art melted by my woe!

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Confirmed with Arlo Bates, Told in the Gate, Boston, Roberts Brothers, 1892, pages 202-203.

1 Chadwick: "the night"


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Research team for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Johann Winkler

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 12
Word count: 87