Explore "The Night Raid" by Paul Bewsher on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Around me broods the dim, mysterious Night, / Star-lit and still. / No whisper comes across the Plain, / Asleep beneath the breezes light, / Which scarcely stir the growing grain. / Slow chimes the quiet midnight hour / In some unseen and distant tower, / While round me broods the vague, mysterious Night, / Star-lit, and cool, and still.
And I must desecrate this silent time / Of drowsy dreams! / On mighty wings towards the sky, / Towards the stars, I have to climb / And o'er the sleeping country fly, / And such far-echoing clamour make / That all the villages must wake. / So must I desecrate this quiet time / Of soft and drowsy dreams!