Our lady of the twilight
She hath such gentle hands,
So lovely are the gifts she brings
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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.

Dim eclipse, disastrous twilight.

Dim eclipse, disastrous twilight.

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.

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.

Sweet shadows of twilight! how calm their repose,
While the dewdrops fall soft in the breast of the rose!
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Sweet shadows of twilight! how calm their repose,
While the dewdrops fall soft in the breast of the rose!
How blest to the toiler his hour of release
When the vesper is heard with its whisper of peace!

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.

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 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.

Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh,
The sun has left the lea,
The orange flower perfumes read more

Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh,
The sun has left the lea,
The orange flower perfumes the bower,
The breeze is on the sea.