The Light of Night How Soft – Sonnet Eighteen

The light of night how soft, considered here
Abundant, overwhelmed by true dark’s course,
The loss of life, the loss of light’s cohere,
The loss of night must then be death’s endorse.
 
The night seems rare in guise of light, not dark,
A place of hope against the unresolved,
A hope against the come of grave’s remark,
The night of love’s enlace and sins’ absolve.
 
In deeps of time, my many lives are lost,
In shadows of their livings’ undone ends,
For ever intimates exact a cost,
My costs, where thousand nights hold no defend.
 
Then let this night suffice, in light of you,
And place within, the light of our pursue.