EVENING.—EXTEMPORE.

The sun retires behind the western hills,

And lengthening shadows shew the parting day;

A hollow sound echoes from murm’ring rills,

Which fall from distant rocks and glide away.

Now sol’s faint beams scarce glisten o’er the glade,

All nature’s various beauties sink from sight;

The verdant vales are wrapt in gloomy shade,

And day retires before the mists of night.

Thus life’s vain pleasures short delight impart:

Those scenes, which once so brilliant did appear,

Return no more to chear the pensive heart,

And memory recalls them with a tear.

J. P.

New-York, Oct. 29, 1796.


For the New-York Weekly Magazine.