Parting day
Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues
With a new colour as it gasps read more

Parting day
Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues
With a new colour as it gasps away,
The last still loveliest, till--'tis gone--and all is gray.

Fair Venus shines
Even in the eye of day; with sweetest beam
Propitious shines, and shakes a read more

Fair Venus shines
Even in the eye of day; with sweetest beam
Propitious shines, and shakes a trembling flood
Of softened radiance from her dewy locks.

The lengthening shadows wait
The first pale stars of twilight.

The lengthening shadows wait
The first pale stars of twilight.

. . . th' approach of night
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When falling dews read more

. . . th' approach of night
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade,
And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.

The sunbeams dropped
Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche,
Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and read more

The sunbeams dropped
Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche,
Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and dim,
As if the very Day paused and grew Eve.

'Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down
Over the waste of waters; like a veil,
Which, read more

'Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down
Over the waste of waters; like a veil,
Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown
Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail.

In the twilight of morning to climb to the top of the mountain,--
Thee to salute, kindly star, earliest read more

In the twilight of morning to climb to the top of the mountain,--
Thee to salute, kindly star, earliest herald of day,--
And to await, with impatience, the gaze of the ruler of heaven.--
Youthful delight, oh, how oft lur'st thou me out in the night.

Then the nun-like twilight came, violent vestured and still,
And the night's first star outshone afar on the eve read more

Then the nun-like twilight came, violent vestured and still,
And the night's first star outshone afar on the eve of Bunker
Hill.

The sun is set; and in his latest beams
Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold,
read more

The sun is set; and in his latest beams
Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold,
Slowly upon the amber air unrolled,
The falling mantle of the Prophet seems.