The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir Edited by Thomas Aird: With A Memoir of the Author |
![]() |
![]() | I. |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
EVENING TRANQUILLITY. |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() | II. |
![]() | The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir | ![]() |
87
EVENING TRANQUILLITY.
I
How still this hour! the mellow sunWithdraws his western ray,
And, evening's haven almost won,
He leaves the seas of day:
Soft is the twilight reign, and calm,
As o'er autumnal fields of balm
The languid zephyrs stray;
Across the lawn the heifers roam,
The wearied reaper seeks his home.
II
The laden earth is rich with flowers,All bathed in crimson light;
While hums the bee, mid garden bowers
With clustering roses bright:
The woods outshoot their shadows dim;
O'er the smooth lake the swallows skim
In wild erratic flight;
Moor'd by the marge, the shallop sleeps,
Above its deck the willow weeps.
88
III
'Tis sweet, in such an hour as this,To bend the pensive way,
Scan Nature, and partake the bliss
Which charms like hers convey:
No city's bustling noise is near;
And but the little birds you hear,
That chant so blithe and gay;
And ask ye whence their mirth began?
Perchance since free, and far from man.
IV
Their little lives are void of care;From bush to brake they fly,
Filling the rich ambrosial air
Of August's vermeil sky:
They flit about the fragrant wood;
Elisha's God provides them food,
And hears them when they cry:
For ever blithe and blest are they,
Their sinless span a summer's day.
V
Yon bending clouds all purpling streakThe mantle of the west;
And trem'lously the sunbeams break
On Pentland's mountain crest:
89
All wear one placid look, and seem
In silent beauty blest;
As if created Natures raised
To Heaven their choral songs, and praised.
VI
Above yon cottage on the plainThe wreathy smoke ascends;
A silent emblem, with the main
Of sailing clouds it blends;
Like a departed spirit gone
Up from low earth to Glory's throne
To mix with sainted friends,
Where, life's probation voyage o'er,
Grief's sail is furl'd for evermore!
![]() | The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir | ![]() |