Classic Poem

See! the Sun is sinking
Day is closing fast
Twilight's pensive-thinking
Hours will soon be past:
Love's first Pilgrim sighing
Starts to hear the bell
Which to day-light dying
Tolls a last farewell:
Vesper's hymn is stealing
O'er the charmed air
Every form is kneeling
Every sound is prayer.

Thus 'mid all that's dearest
Would I sink to rest
Like that bright Star nearest
To the drooping West:
Let not Love bewail me,
'Twould but wound my ear
When my senses fail me
Be thou only near;
While my eyes are glazing
Take thy hand in mine
And be sure while gazing
Life's last thought is thine!