POEMS.
EVENING.1817.
Pensive, I walk beside the placid stream,
And view the beauteous Sun's departing beam,
As o'er the adjacent landscape's verdant hill
His golden rays their brightness yet distil;
But fainter grow, as every moment flies,
And now they vanish from my gazing eyes.
Yet lovely still the scene, more lovely too,
Than when the radiant orb appeared in view.
A glowing softness, with a charm supreme,
Marks every field, and smooths the flowing stream;
Bright clouds, commixed with ever-varying hues,
Gold, purple, azure, beauteous charms diffuse.
Now dusky shades apace begin to fall.
And mingling light and darkness cover all;
And view the beauteous Sun's departing beam,
As o'er the adjacent landscape's verdant hill
His golden rays their brightness yet distil;
But fainter grow, as every moment flies,
And now they vanish from my gazing eyes.
Yet lovely still the scene, more lovely too,
Than when the radiant orb appeared in view.
A glowing softness, with a charm supreme,
Marks every field, and smooths the flowing stream;
Bright clouds, commixed with ever-varying hues,
Gold, purple, azure, beauteous charms diffuse.
Now dusky shades apace begin to fall.
And mingling light and darkness cover all;
