The burning stars forever roll,
Changeless as heaven, and deeply bright—
Fair emblems of a world of light!
Oh, bathe my temples with thy dew,
Sweet Evening, dearest parent mild,
And from thy curtained home of blue,
Bend calmly o'er thy tearful child:
For, when I feel, so soft and bland,
The pressure of thy tender hand,
I dream I rest in peace the while,