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Poem by Hilaire Belloc


The Night


Most Holy Night, that still dost keep
The keys of all the doors of sleep,
To me when my tired eyelids close
Give thou repose.

And let the far lament of them
That chaunt the dead days requiem
Make in my ears, who wakeful lie,
Soft lullaby.

Let them that guard the horned Moon
By my bedside their memories croon.
So shall I have new dreams and blest
In my brief rest.

Fold thy great wings about my face,
Hide day-dawn from my resting-place,
And cheat me with thy false delight,
Most Holy Night.



Hilaire Belloc


Hilaire Belloc's other poems:
  1. The Rebel
  2. Ballade of Modest Confession
  3. On the Gift of a Book to a Child
  4. The Bison
  5. Sarah Byng, Who Could Not Read and Was Tossed into a Thorny Hedge by a Bull


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Henry Vaughan The Night ("Through that pure virgin shrine")
  • Ella Wilcox The Night ("Oh! give me the night, the dark, dark night")

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