The twilight now is blushing o’er the earth—
The west is glowing like a garden, rich
With summer’s many-tinted blooms; the flowers
Of earth hold up their fairy cups to catch
The softly falling dew-drops; the bright stars
Are set like glorious diamonds on the dark
Blue drapery of the halls of heaven; the pale,
Sweet moon, like some young angel of the air,
Floats from the east upon her silver wing;
Eve’s golden clouds hung low—and thin, white mists