Books > Old Books > The Golden Treasury (1932)


Page 146

BOOK THIRD
146 TO EVENING

If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song
May hope, O pensive Eve, to soothe thine ear,
Like thy own brawling springs,
Thy springs, and dying gales;

O Nymph reserved,-while now the bright-hair'd sun
Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts
With brede ethereal wove
O'erhang his wavy bed;

Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-ey'd bat
With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing,
Or where the beetle winds
His small but sullen horn,

As oft he rises 'midst the twilight path,
Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum,
Now teach me, maid composed,
To breathe some soften'd strain,

Whose numbers, stealing through thy dark'ning vale,
May not unseemly with its stillness suit;
As musing slow I hail
Thy genial loved return.

For when thy folding-star arising shows
His paly circlet, at his warning lamp
The fragrant Hours, and Elves
Who slept in buds the day,

And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge
And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still
The pensive Pleasures sweet,
Prepare thy shadowy car.

Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene;
Or find some ruin midst its dreary dells,
Whose walls more awful nod
By thy religious gleams.

Or if chill blustering winds or driving rain
Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut
That, from the mountain's side,
Views wilds and swelling floods,

And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires;
And hears their simple bell; and marks o'er all
Thy dewy fingers draw
The gradual dusky veil.

While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont,
And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve!
While Summer loves to sport
Beneath thy lingering light;

While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves;
Or Winter, yelling through the troublous air,
Affrights thy shrinking train
And rudely rends thy robes;

So long, regardful of thy quiet rule,
Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace,
Thy gentlest influence own,
And love thy favourite name!
W. COLLINS.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song May hope, O pensive Eve, to soothe thine ear, Like thy own brawling springs, Thy springs, and dying gales; O Nymph reserved,-while now what is bright-hair'd sun Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts With brede ethereal wove O'erhang his wavy bed; Now air is hush'd, save where what is weak-ey'd bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where what is beetle winds His small but sullen horn, As oft he rises 'midst what is twilight path, Against what is pilgrim borne in heedless hum, Now teach me, maid composed, To breathe some soften'd strain, Whose numbers, stealing through thy dark'ning vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit; As musing slow I hail Thy genial loved return. For when thy folding-star arising shows His paly circlet, at his warning lamp what is fragrant Hours, and Elves Who slept in buds what is day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Golden Treasury (1932) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 146 where is strong BOOK THIRD where is strong 146 TO EVENING where is p align="justify" If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song May hope, O pensive Eve, to soothe thine ear, Like thy own brawling springs, Thy springs, and dying gales; O Nymph reserved,-while now what is bright-hair'd sun Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts With brede ethereal wove O'erhang his wavy bed; Now air is hush'd, save where what is weak-ey'd bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where what is beetle winds His small but sullen horn, As oft he rises 'midst what is twilight path, Against what is pilgrim borne in heedless hum, Now teach me, maid composed, To breathe some soften'd strain, Whose numbers, stealing through thy dark'ning vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit; As musing slow I hail Thy genial loved return. For when thy folding-star arising shows His paly circlet, at his warning lamp what is fragrant Hours, and Elves Who slept in buds what is day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds what is freshening dew, and lovelier still what is pensive Pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car. Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene; Or find some ruin midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds or driving rain Prevent my willing feet, be mine what is hut That, from what is mountain's side, Views wilds and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires; And hears their simple bell; and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw what is gradual dusky veil. While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont, And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve! While Summer loves to sport Beneath thy lingering light; While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves; Or Winter, yelling through what is troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train And rudely rends thy robes; So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And what time is it thy favourite name! W. COLLINS. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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