Elizabeth Barrett Browning - Night and the Merry Man lyrics

     NIGHT

'Neath my moon what doest thou
With a somewhat paler brow
Than she giveth to the ocean?
He, without a pulse or motion
Muttering low before her stands
Lifting his invoking hands
Like a seer before a sprite
To catch her oracles of light:
But thy soul out-trembles now
Many pulses on thy brow
Where be all thy laughters clear
Others laughed alone to hear?
Where thy quaint jests, said for fame?
Where thy dances, mixed with game?
Where thy festive companies
Moonèd o'er with ladies' eyes
All more bright for thee, I trow?
'Neath my moon what doest thou?

     THE MERRY MAN

I am digging my warm heart
Till I find it's coldest part
I am digging wide and low
Further than a spade will go
Till that, when the pit is deep
And large enough, I there may heap
All my present pain and past
Joy, dead things that look aghast
By the daylight: now 't is done
Throw them in, by one and one!
I must laugh, at rising sun