Beauteous Night lay dead
Under the pall of twilight, and the love-star sickened and
shrank.

Beauteous Night lay dead
Under the pall of twilight, and the love-star sickened and
shrank.

She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
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She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
And she will sing the song that pleaseth you
And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,
Charming your brood with pleasing heaviness,
Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep
As is the difference betwixt day and night
The hour before the heavenly-harnessed team
Begins his golden progress in the east.

Our lady of the twilight
She hath such gentle hands,
So lovely are the gifts she brings
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Our lady of the twilight
She hath such gentle hands,
So lovely are the gifts she brings
From out of the sunset-lands,
So bountiful, so merciful,
So sweet of soul is she;
And over all the world she draws
Her cloak of charity.

'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Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown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.

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.

The summer day is closed, the sun is set:
Well they have done their office, those bright hours,
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The summer day is closed, the sun is set:
Well they have done their office, those bright hours,
The latest of whose train goes softly out
In the red west.

Night was drawing and closing her curtain up above the world, and
down beneath it.

Night was drawing and closing her curtain up above the world, and
down beneath it.

Sweet shadows of twilight! how calm their repose,
While the dewdrops fall soft in the breast of the rose!
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Sweet shadows of twilight! how calm their repose,
While the dewdrops fall soft in the breast of the rose!
How blest to the toiler his hour of release
When the vesper is heard with its whisper of peace!