The Poetical Works of Laman Blanchard With a Memoir by Blanchard Jerrold |
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XV. | XVEVENING. |
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XVIII. |
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XXI. |
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The Poetical Works of Laman Blanchard | ||
138
XV
EVENING.
Already hath the day grown grey with age;
And in the west, like to a conqueror crowned,
Is faint with too much glory. On the ground
He flings his dazzling arms; and, as a sage,
Prepares him for a cloud-hung hermitage,
Where Meditation meets him at the door;
And all around—on wall, and roof, and floor,
Some pensive star unfolds its silver page
Of truth, which God's own hand hath testified.
Sweet Eve! whom poets sing to us as a bride,
Queen of the quiet—Eden of Time's bright map—
Thy look allures me from my hushed fireside,
And sharp leaves rustling at my casement tap,
And beckon forth my mind to dream upon thy lap!
The Poetical Works of Laman Blanchard | ||