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.

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?

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye read more

Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye of vulgar light,
Begins to bloom for sons of night.

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.

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.

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.

The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.

The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.

And whiter grows the foam,
The small moon lightens more;
And as I turn me home,
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And whiter grows the foam,
The small moon lightens more;
And as I turn me home,
My shadow walks before.