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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.
'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Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown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.
The west is broken into bars
Of orange, gold, and gray;
Gone is the sun, come are read more
The west is broken into bars
Of orange, gold, and gray;
Gone is the sun, come are the stars,
And night infolds the day.
. . . 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 gloaming comes, the day is spent,
The sun goes out of sight,
And painted is the read more
The gloaming comes, the day is spent,
The sun goes out of sight,
And painted is the occident
With purple sanguine bright.
The twilight is sad and cloudy,
The wind blows wild and free,
And like the wings of read more
The twilight is sad and cloudy,
The wind blows wild and free,
And like the wings of sea-birds
Flash the white caps of the sea.
How lovely are the portals of the night,
When stars come out to watch the daylight die.
How lovely are the portals of the night,
When stars come out to watch the daylight die.
Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh,
The sun has left the lea,
The orange flower perfumes read more
Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh,
The sun has left the lea,
The orange flower perfumes the bower,
The breeze is on the sea.