Hath thy heart within thee burned,
At evening's calm and holy hour?

Hath thy heart within thee burned,
At evening's calm and holy hour?

Day hath put on his jacket, and around
His burning bosom buttoned it with stars.

Day hath put on his jacket, and around
His burning bosom buttoned it with stars.

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
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At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill
And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove.

And whiter grows the foam,
The small moon lightens more;
And as I turn me home,
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And whiter grows the foam,
The small moon lightens more;
And as I turn me home,
My shadow walks before.

O how grandly cometh Even,
Sitting on the mountain summit,
Purple-vestured, grave, and silent,
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O how grandly cometh Even,
Sitting on the mountain summit,
Purple-vestured, grave, and silent,
Watching o'er the dewy valleys,
Like a good king near his end.

Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death.

Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death.

The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.

The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The read more

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.