Among his promiscuous poems is a beautiful lyric, representing the triumph of Faith over Sorrow, under the symbol of a beautiful child bringing to him a wand, beneath whose touch the Queen of Serpents yields to him the "precious jewel." The following is the first Hymn to the Night: "What living, sense-endowed being loves not, before all the prodigies of the far extending space around him, the all-rejoicing light with its colors, its beams and billows, its mild omnipresence, as waking day? The restless giant-world of the stars, swimming with dancing motion in its azure flood. Inhales it as its life's inmost soul; the sparkling, ever-resting stone, the sensitive, imbibing plant, and the wild, burning, many-shaped animal, inhale it; but before all, the glorious stranger, with the speaking eyes, the uncertain gait, and the gently closed, melodious lips. Like a king of earthly nature, it summons each power to countless transformations, ratifies and dissolves treaties in infinite number, and suspends its heavenly image on every earthly being. Its presence alone reveals the wondrous splendor of creation's realms. "I turn aside to the holy, ineffable, mysterious Night. Far away lies the world, sunk in a depth profound waste and lonely is its place. O'er the chords of the bosom waveth deep sadness. I will dissolve into dew drops, and mingle myself with the ashes. Distance of memory, wishes of youth, dreams of childhood, the short joys and vain hopes of a whole long life, flit by me in robes of gray, like evening clouds after sunset. In other spaces Light has pitched its merry tents. Will it never return to its children, who are waiting for it with the trusting faith of innocence?