SUNSET ON THE HILLS.
STOCKBRIDGE.
It is the gentle evening hour;
And, see, the shades are lengthening fast;
My spirit feels its softening power,
And troubles, with the day, have pass'd.
And, see, the shades are lengthening fast;
My spirit feels its softening power,
And troubles, with the day, have pass'd.
In quiet beauty, fixed repose,
The hills, like guardians of the land,
Catch the last sun-beam, as it glows,
And bright in tranquil grandeur stand.
The hills, like guardians of the land,
Catch the last sun-beam, as it glows,
And bright in tranquil grandeur stand.
All, all is beauty, love and peace;
Mysterious longings heave and swell
Within my soul, and shall not cease,
Till a like glory there shall dwell.
Mysterious longings heave and swell
Within my soul, and shall not cease,
Till a like glory there shall dwell.
