O nuit, nuit douloureuse! O toi, tardive aurore! Viens-tu? Vas tu venir? es-tu bien loin encore?
And repeating these lines of Chenier, with upturned eyes, and one hand lifted an an indescribable expression of grief and fatigue, he sank stiffly into his chair, and remained mute, with eyes closed for some time. Then applying his scented handkerchief to them hastily, and looking very kindly at me he said- "Anything more, dear child?
Uncle Silas is quoting the opening lines of a poem written in French by Chenier. The poem tells of the seperation between lovers, one loving the night, and the other the day:
O night, painful night!
o you, late morning, do you come?
are you going to come?
are you well far yet?
Ah! sometimes on a mountainside,
then on again ', randomly I turn
and m' agitates, and nowhere
Find that Marais ' impatient, bitter insomnia.
A worried illness and making only a burning fever.
You sleep, beautiful D'.z.. ' ;
It ' is that you, it ' is my love
Holding my eyelid open Montparnasse ' day.
If you again ' had wanted.
Gods! that cruel night could Entrepreneural
' flow faster and more beautiful.
My soul, like a dream, around your aerobatic sleep.
Reading me tomorrow as your alarm clock.
You see, like you, if my heart is peaceful.
J have raised for you on my painful layer my head dwelt;
seated, and full of yourself.
The nocturnal torch that shines me sees Me,
sounds plaintive and mixed caresses.
Pour over paper my heart and my tenderness.
You sleep, beautiful D'.. .z, your eyes are closed.
Your breath of balmy sighs rose
For you tonight that Entrepreneural ' escapes too fast
a sweet insomnia will leak! (English)