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The summer day is closed, the sun is set:
Well they have done their office, those bright hours,
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The summer day is closed, the sun is set:
Well they have done their office, those bright hours,
The latest of whose train goes softly out
In the red west.
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.
The sun is set; and in his latest beams
Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold,
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The sun is set; and in his latest beams
Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold,
Slowly upon the amber air unrolled,
The falling mantle of the Prophet seems.
The sunbeams dropped
Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche,
Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and read more
The sunbeams dropped
Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche,
Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and dim,
As if the very Day paused and grew Eve.
The twilight is sad and cloudy,
The wind blows wild and free,
And like the wings of read more
The twilight is sad and cloudy,
The wind blows wild and free,
And like the wings of sea-birds
Flash the white caps of the sea.
She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
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She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
And she will sing the song that pleaseth you
And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,
Charming your brood with pleasing heaviness,
Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep
As is the difference betwixt day and night
The hour before the heavenly-harnessed team
Begins his golden progress in the east.
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.
Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village-green,
With magic tints to harmonize the scene.
Stilled is the read more
Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village-green,
With magic tints to harmonize the scene.
Stilled is the hum that through the hamlet broke
When round the ruins of their ancient oak
The peasants flocked to hear the minstrel play,
And games and carols closed the busy day.
Parting day
Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues
With a new colour as it gasps read more
Parting day
Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues
With a new colour as it gasps away,
The last still loveliest, till--'tis gone--and all is gray.