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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 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.
Her feet along the dewy hills
Are lighter than blown thistledown;
She bears the glamour of one read more
Her feet along the dewy hills
Are lighter than blown thistledown;
She bears the glamour of one star
Upon her violet crown.
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.
'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Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown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.
The sun is set; and in his latest beams
Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold,
read more
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 west is broken into bars
Of orange, gold, and gray;
Gone is the sun, come are read more
The west is broken into bars
Of orange, gold, and gray;
Gone is the sun, come are the stars,
And night infolds the day.
The summer day is closed, the sun is set:
Well they have done their office, those bright hours,
read more
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.