Which every thirsty plant receives,
While silence trembles on the leaves.
From every tree, and flower, and bush,
There seems to breathe a soothing hush,
While every transient sound but shows
How deep and still is the repose.
Mrs. Follen.
30. When as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up her wondrous tale,
And, nightly, to the listening earth