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The sun is set ; the swallows are asleep, .
The bats are fitting fast in the gray air ;
And evening's breath, wandering here and there
Nor damp within the shadow of the trees; The wind is intermitting, dry, and light;
And in the inconstant motion of the breeze The dust and straws are driven up and down, And whirld about the pavement of the town. The chasm in which the sun has sunk, is shut
By darkest barriers of enormous cloud, Like mountain over mountain huddled-but
Growiug and moving upwards in a crowd, And over it a space of watery blue, Which the keen evening star is shining through.
The Ebening Hour.
Then, trembling, through the dewy skies,
The Evening Sky.
The Evening Cloud.
A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow:
O'er the still radiance of the lake below.
Tranquil its spirit seem'd, and floated slow! Even in its very motion there was rest:
While every breath of wind that chanced to blow Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west. Emblem, methought, of the departed soul,
To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given ; And by the breath of mercy made to roll
Right onwards to the golden gates of heaven,
A smiling light proclaims her o'er yon hill;
And stillness at her smile becomes more still. My heart forgets all thought of human ill, And man seems happy as his place of birth;
All things that yield him joy my spirit fill With kindred joy! and even his humblest mirth Seems at this peaceful hour to beautify the earth.
The Waning Moon.
To the Moon. O Moon! old boughs lisp forth a holier din The while they feel thine airy fellowship. Thou dost bless everywhere, with silver lip Kissing dead things to life. The sleeping kine, Couch'd in thy brightness, dream of fields divine : Innumerable mountains rise, and rise Ambitious for the hallowing of thine eyes; And yet thy benediction passeth not One obscure hiding-place, one little spot Where pleasure may be sent: the nested wren Has thy fair face within its tranquil ken, And from beneath a sheltering ivy leaf Takes glimpses of thee; thou art a relief To the poor patient oyster, where it sleeps Within its pearly house :--The mighty deeps, The monstrous sea, is thine, the myriad sea! O Moon ! far spooming Ocean bows to thee, And Tellus feels her forehead's cumbrous load.
How beautiful the Queen of Night.
2 Night Piece.
The sky is overcast With a continuous cloud of texture, close, Heavy, and wan, all whiten’d by the Moon, Which through that veil is indistinctly seen, A dull, contracted circle, yielding light So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls, Chequering the ground-from rock, plant, tree, or
tower At length a pleasant, instantaneous gleam Startles the pensive traveller while he treads His lonesome path, with unobserving eye Bent earthwards. He looks up—the clouds are split Asunder, and above his head he sees The clear Moon, and the glory of the heavens ; There, in a black-blue vault, she sails along, Follow'd by multitudes of stars, that, small, And sharp, and bright, along the dark abyss Drive as she drives : how fast they wheel away, Yet vanish not !--The wind is in the tree, But they are silent ;-still they roll along Immeasurably distant; and the vault, Built round by those white clouds—enormous clouds, Still deepens its unfathomable depth. At length the vision closes ; and the mind, Not undisturb’d by the delight it feels, Which slowly settles into peaceful calm, Is left to muse upon the solemn scene.
The Stillness of Night.
The in-door note of industry is still ;
Their nightly odours ! and the household rill
For all the garrulous noises of the air
Midnight. MIDNIGHT was come,
The waters calm, the cruel seas did cease,
The golden stars were whirld amid their race,
The fearful deer of death stood not in doubt,
The ugly bear now minded not the stake,