Trembled upon each quiv’ring leaf. But see!
He starts—he bounds into the forest depths,
And all is still again.
Two moons
Their circling revolutions had fulfilled.
Twas when the evening breezes softly breathed,
Wafting sweet odors from the balmy groves,
And from each songster of the wood there rose
A vesper hymn, and over all the scene
Twilight a soft and rosy tint had spread—