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EVENING.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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EVENING.

Retiring day now blushes o'er the heaven,
And slow in solemn brown brings on the even;
Now silent dews along the grass distil,
And all the air with their sweet fragrance fill;
Now chaste Diana, with her silver train,
In her bright chariot rising quits the main;
Now all the stars in bright confusion roll,
And with their lustre gild the glowing pole.
The happy swains now seek the ambrosial groves,
On their sweet pipes to warble forth their loves.
'Twas here reclined beneath the leafy shade,
While busy thought Maria's form surveyed,

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The artless --- with his rude pipe retired,
To sing those carols, which his love inspired.
His pipe, though rude, ne'er swelled a treacherous lay;
His pipe and bosom owned Maria's sway.
'Twas here he taught the woods her name to sound,
And her soft praises echoed all around.
Not far retired, the object of his love
With her sweet strains enchanted all the grove;
While bending forests listened to the tale,
And her sweet notes re-echoed o'er the vale.
A nightingale, who, from a neighbouring spray,
Attentive heard Maria's matchless lay,
With envy saw the well deserved meed,
Bloom with new honours to adorn her head.
She thrice essayed to emulate the lay,
And thrice her wandering thoughts were led astray.
Charmed by the musick of Maria's song,
Her heedless notes forgot to pass along.
A sudden quivering seized her tender throat;
She ceased to breathe her sweetly plaintive note;
Her languid wings she fluttered on the spray,
And at the shrine of Envy sighed her life away.
Thus, fair Maria, in your wondrous praise,
The youthful muse has sung her feeble lays;
And though your name is all that in them shines,
Forgive the errors of her artless lines.
Your true, conspicuous merit e'en will claim
A rank immortal on the list of fame.

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As on one tree, when sin had not beguiled,
Blossoms and fruits in sweet confusion smiled.
So youth's gay flowerets in your features bloom,
And wisdom's sacred rays your mind illume.