THE REST OF EVENING.
When the sun sinking to his rest
With long rays streaks the plain immense,
Like ripened corn glows all the West
With purple, red, and gold intense.
Deepen the shades, as lustre fades
Upon the hills in front,—at last
Blue vapours rise in coils and braids,
The sky grows gray,—and day is past.
Come, let us rest
Till dawn again:
Repose is blest
To toil and pain.
Lies in the furrow till receives
The earth its dews again, the plough,
Birds go to roost 'mid sheltering leaves;
Number the sheep beneath the bough
O Shepherds! Maidens, switch in hand,
To fords conduct the beasts to drink.
How patient there the oxen stand!
How snort the steeds beside the brink!
Come, let us rest
Till dawn again:
Repose is blest
To toil and pain.
