 | Metrical essays |  |
159
EVENING.
The moon upon the cloudless heaven moved slow,The pale flowers gather'd up their leaves to sleep;
In silence lay the lonely vale below
In silence spread the venerable deep:
The ancient mountains dream'd in loneliness,
A languor seem'd even in the moonlight ray,
The fresh clear stream, that gurgled through the day,
Now passed in calm and holy quietness:
The last light from the cottage casement fled,
The late bird's wings lay folded in sweet rest,
The Spirit of the Evening all things blest,
Bird, flower, vale, mountain, and the cotter's bed!—
Gradually yielding to the night's mild sway,
As music on the seas, faint, fading, far away!
| Metrical essays | |