Days and Hours :: :: University of Virginia Library

Hush! it is Even, dark-eyed Even,
With her low song, and tender sigh,
Soft-utter'd voice of Earth to Heaven
Witness'd by one sweet star on high;
On wheels of rayless flame she passeth by,
And Peace sits by her clasp'd unto her heart;
Hatred, relent; and, Care, forget thy smart,
And, Anger, droop thine eye.

II

Dusky Memories throng her way,
Bright Fancies from the shadows peep,
And Hopes that panted in the day
Sadly hide their eyes and weep;
Lorn Griefs look up into the balmy sky,
Plumed Love upon the soundless air comes out,
And Wit he bears his wavering lamp about,
Despair seeks where to die.

212

III

Fly with her yon howling cave
Loud with riot, red with flame,
Where haggard Passions whirl and rave
And Phrenzy links her arms with Shame;
Revenge uncoils the serpents round him curl'd,
And Murder steals abroad with perilous hand;
And Treason whispers grim, and lights his brand
To fire a slumbering world.

IV

Fly with her the golden doors,
Thro' whose valves thrown open wide
The trumpet-streaming Revel pours,
And Folly haunts the ears of Pride;
And Nature, like the King at Babylon,
Dazzled with glories, with enchantments bound,
Hears not the momently increasing sound
Of Judgment rolling on.

213

V

Rather let us stroll with her
By river-slopes, and orchards green,
Where soft and fragrant thickets stir,
And the last daylights gush between;
Or, when the tides are sunken to their bed,
Wave her godspeed upon the silent sands,
As She sails far, far off to rosy lands,
And Night is Queen instead.

VI

Rather, while all the air is mute,
And flowers breathe rare from closing bells,
Let us listen to her lute,
And hear her sing divine farewells;
While dying echoes fall upon our ears,
For ever dying thro' the misty hills,
And mix with murmurs of the mountain rills,
And Twilight drops her tears.

214

VII

Rather with her seek the chamber,
That fond Hesper, twinkling thro'
The vines that o'er the lattice clamber,
Every moment peeps into;
And some kind mother softly steals above
From friend, and lover, to her sleeping boy
And on his cheek all flush'd with dreams of joy
She sets her seal of love.

VIII

Sometimes let us seek the cell
Where the Poet, far apart,
To two or three he loveth well
Works the wonders of his art;
And from his coloured lamp and golden lyre
Peoples the Past with voices and with light,
And scrolls Futurity's unfathom'd night
With symbols, and with fire.

215

IX

And when the stars are o'er us burning,
And the Moon is dawning slow,
And the nightingale is mourning,
From his porch we'll softly go;
And memories of his music shall descend
With the pure spirits of the sunless hours,
Sink thro' our hearts, like dew into the flowers,
And haunt us without end.

X

Blessed art thou, O dark-eyed Even,
Thou, and thy tender handmaids true;
Send us thy mercies down from heaven
Daily with the falling dew;
Dusk flowers to heal the bleeding brows of Sorrow
From thy soft chaplets fail not to untwine,
And pour into our tortured hearts, like wine,
Sweet dreams until tomorrow.