’Tis pleasant, when blue skies are o’er us bending,
Within old starry-gated Poesy,
To meet a soul set to no worldly tune,
Like thine, sweet friend! oh, dearer this to me
Than are the dewy trees, the sun, the moon,
Or noble music with a golden ending.
Alexander Smith.
TWILIGHT.
There is an evening twilight of the heart
When its wild passion-waves are lull’d to rest,