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Beauteous Night lay dead
Under the pall of twilight, and the love-star sickened and
shrank.
Beauteous Night lay dead
Under the pall of twilight, and the love-star sickened and
shrank.
Fair Venus shines
Even in the eye of day; with sweetest beam
Propitious shines, and shakes a read more
Fair Venus shines
Even in the eye of day; with sweetest beam
Propitious shines, and shakes a trembling flood
Of softened radiance from her dewy locks.
. . . th' approach of night
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When falling dews read more
. . . th' approach of night
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade,
And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.
'Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down
Over the waste of waters; like a veil,
Which, read more
'Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down
Over the waste of waters; like a veil,
Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown
Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail.
In the twilight of morning to climb to the top of the mountain,--
Thee to salute, kindly star, earliest read more
In the twilight of morning to climb to the top of the mountain,--
Thee to salute, kindly star, earliest herald of day,--
And to await, with impatience, the gaze of the ruler of heaven.--
Youthful delight, oh, how oft lur'st thou me out in the night.
Twilight, a timid, fawn, went glimmering by,
And Night, the dark-blue hunter, followed fast.
Twilight, a timid, fawn, went glimmering by,
And Night, the dark-blue hunter, followed fast.
The gloaming comes, the day is spent,
The sun goes out of sight,
And painted is the read more
The gloaming comes, the day is spent,
The sun goes out of sight,
And painted is the occident
With purple sanguine bright.
How lovely are the portals of the night,
When stars come out to watch the daylight die.
How lovely are the portals of the night,
When stars come out to watch the daylight die.
Our lady of the twilight
She hath such gentle hands,
So lovely are the gifts she brings
read more
Our lady of the twilight
She hath such gentle hands,
So lovely are the gifts she brings
From out of the sunset-lands,
So bountiful, so merciful,
So sweet of soul is she;
And over all the world she draws
Her cloak of charity.