EVENING.
The dusky shadows from the east that rise,
Steal midway o'er the heavens; the blazing car
Of Day is sunk; and Sunset's gorgeous dyes
Fade fast away. Eve's solitary star,
Watching their golden pomp with kindling eye,
New trims her virgin lamp: th' unruffled tide
Gives back a liquid light, while shadows lie
Deep, broad and strong, the wood-crown'd shores beside.
How beautiful! all earthly passions fly
This consecrated hour. The distant bird
In some sequestered wild mourns on; the fire-fly
Lights her nuptial torch; the sounds that stirr'd
Die one by one away. An hour like this
Is balm unto the soul, steeps every sense in bliss.
Ω
TO THE EDITORS OF THE RURAL MAGAZINE.
The following is taken from a manuscript book of rare pieces, which I have been collecting for upwards of forty years. C. E.
On the Return of the New Year.
God's vast existence ne'er decays,
His age doth never grow,
Past, present, future, in his sight,
Are one eternal NOW.
Man measures out his fleeting state
By motions in the skies,
And like his own frail vesture, wears
With every hour that flies.
Successive moments make one day,
Successive days one year;
The moments past shall ne'er return,
Though seasons like appear.
Still a new spring shall bless the earth,
And a new harvest rise,
But the last year shall ne'er again
Revisit mortal eyes.
Old Time, with his keen-pointed scythe,
Consumes the life of man;
Our period's less'ning from the hour
Our beings first began.
Each year fulfills some new event
Heaven long decreed before,
Removes unnumbered lives away,
And gives unnumber'd more.
Soon shall the appointed angel stand
O'er earth, and air, and sea,
And swear by him that ever lives,
That time no more shall be.
Then shall the league of nature cease,
The sun forsake his way,
And years and ages lose their name,
In one eternal day.