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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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!

The lengthening shadows wait
The first pale stars of twilight.

The lengthening shadows wait
The first pale stars of twilight.

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