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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?
But when eve's silent footfall steals
Along the eastern sky,
And one by one to earth reveals
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But when eve's silent footfall steals
Along the eastern sky,
And one by one to earth reveals
Those purer fires on high.
Day hath put on his jacket, and around
His burning bosom buttoned it with stars.
Day hath put on his jacket, and around
His burning bosom buttoned it with stars.
How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.
How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.
Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death.
Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death.
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.
I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
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I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
I laughed in the morning's eyes.
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.
O how grandly cometh Even,
Sitting on the mountain summit,
Purple-vestured, grave, and silent,
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O how grandly cometh Even,
Sitting on the mountain summit,
Purple-vestured, grave, and silent,
Watching o'er the dewy valleys,
Like a good king near his end.
