Classic Poem

The evening hour is sweet to me,
For it is Nature's lullaby;
The birds sing softer in the bowers,
The dews lie sleeping on the flowers;
The moon, in her pale beauty risen,
Shines coldly on the darkening heav'n;
And gently on the human breast,
Come the calm thoughts of home and rest;
And oft in that hour's solitude,
Thoughts of a deeper rest intrude;
Which to the good but breathes of peace,
And of the fetter'd soul's release;
That hour as sweet, as sad as this,
The twilight of a dawn of bliss.

S WIFT fades the purple from the mountain height!
O'er the blue lake, yon bark with homeward sail,
Spreads its light canvas to the evening gale;
The pale moon bends thro' fields of azure light
Her heavenly course, tinging with radiance bright
The rippling stream, dark grove, or shelter'd dale;
The gray mist, rising in the dewy vale,
Cheats with fantastic forms the traveller's sight—
Hush'd is the voice of nature all around.
Hail, lovely Eve! to contemplation dear,
No murmur breaks thy halcyon calm profound,
Save where the timorous bat, in idle fear,
Shrieks to the quivering leaf; or the dull sound
Of night's slow herald, wakes thy startled ear.

The evening hour is sweet to me,
For it is Nature's lullaby;
The birds sing softer in the bowers,
The dews lie sleeping on the flowers;
The moon, in her pale beauty risen,
Shines coldly on the darkening heav'n;
And gently on the human breast,
Come the calm thoughts of home and rest;
And oft in that hour's solitude,
Thoughts of a deeper rest intrude;
Which to the good but breathes of peace,
And of the fetter'd soul's release;
That hour as sweet, as sad as this,
The twilight of a dawn of bliss.

S WIFT fades the purple from the mountain height!
O'er the blue lake, yon bark with homeward sail,
Spreads its light canvas to the evening gale;
The pale moon bends thro' fields of azure light
Her heavenly course, tinging with radiance bright
The rippling stream, dark grove, or shelter'd dale;
The gray mist, rising in the dewy vale,
Cheats with fantastic forms the traveller's sight—
Hush'd is the voice of nature all around.
Hail, lovely Eve! to contemplation dear,
No murmur breaks thy halcyon calm profound,
Save where the timorous bat, in idle fear,
Shrieks to the quivering leaf; or the dull sound
Of night's slow herald, wakes thy startled ear.