TWILIGHT IN THE NORTH.
239
And nothing stirs or sighs in mountains, waters, skies,—
Earth sleeps—bat her heart waketh, till the rising of the sun.
Earth sleeps—bat her heart waketh, till the rising of the sun.
O the sweet, sweet twilight, just before the time, of rest,
When the black clouds are driven away, and the stormy winds suppressed:
And the dead day smiles so bright, filling earth and heaven with light,—
You would think 't was dawn come back again—but the light is in the west.
When the black clouds are driven away, and the stormy winds suppressed:
And the dead day smiles so bright, filling earth and heaven with light,—
You would think 't was dawn come back again—but the light is in the west.
O the grand solemn twilight, spreading peace from pole to pole!—
Ere the rains sweep o'er the hillsides, and the waters rise and roll,
In the lull and the calm, come, angel with the palm—
In the still northern twilight, Azrael, take my soul.
Ere the rains sweep o'er the hillsides, and the waters rise and roll,
In the lull and the calm, come, angel with the palm—
In the still northern twilight, Azrael, take my soul.
