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 The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
 The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
  The read more 
 The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
 The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
  The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
   And leaves the world to darkness and to me. 
 Hath thy heart within thee burned,
 At evening's calm and holy hour?  
 Hath thy heart within thee burned,
 At evening's calm and holy hour? 
 At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
 And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
 read more 
 At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
 And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
  When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill
   And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove. 
 The holy time is quiet as a Nun
 Breathless with adoration.  
 The holy time is quiet as a Nun
 Breathless with adoration. 
 When day is done, and clouds are low,
 And flowers are honey-dew,
  And Hesper's lamp begins to read more 
 When day is done, and clouds are low,
 And flowers are honey-dew,
  And Hesper's lamp begins to glow
   Along the western blue;
    And homeward wing the turtle-doves,
     Then comes the hour the poet loves. 
 One by one the flowers close,
 Lily and dewy rose
  Shutting their tender petals from the moon.  
 One by one the flowers close,
 Lily and dewy rose
  Shutting their tender petals from the moon. 
 It is the hour when from the boughs
 The nightingale's high note is heard;
  It is the read more 
 It is the hour when from the boughs
 The nightingale's high note is heard;
  It is the hour when lovers' vows
   Seem sweet in every whispered word;
    And gentle winds, and waters near,
     Make music to the lonely ear.
      Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
       And in the sky the stars are met,
        And on the wave is deeper blue,
         And on the leaf a browner hue,
          And in the heaven that clear obscure,
           So softly dark, and darkly pure.
            Which follows the decline of day,
             As twilight melts beneath the moon away. 
 To me at least was never evening yet
 But seemed far beautifuller than its day.  
 To me at least was never evening yet
 But seemed far beautifuller than its day. 
Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers.
Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers.