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The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
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The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices.
When day is done, and clouds are low,
And flowers are honey-dew,
And Hesper's lamp begins to read more
When day is done, and clouds are low,
And flowers are honey-dew,
And Hesper's lamp begins to glow
Along the western blue;
And homeward wing the turtle-doves,
Then comes the hour the poet loves.
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.
The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death.
Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death.
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?
How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.
How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.
One by one the flowers close,
Lily and dewy rose
Shutting their tender petals from the moon.
One by one the flowers close,
Lily and dewy rose
Shutting their tender petals from the moon.
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.
