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The lengthening shadows wait
The first pale stars of twilight.
The lengthening shadows wait
The first pale stars of twilight.
. . . 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.
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.
Then the nun-like twilight came, violent vestured and still,
And the night's first star outshone afar on the eve read more
Then the nun-like twilight came, violent vestured and still,
And the night's first star outshone afar on the eve of Bunker
Hill.
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.
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.
Sweet shadows of twilight! how calm their repose,
While the dewdrops fall soft in the breast of the rose!
read more
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!
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.