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. . . 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Our lady of the twilight
She hath such gentle hands,
So lovely are the gifts she brings
read more
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.
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.
She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
read more
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.