This page has been validated.
EVENING.
The twilight falls, the picture fades;
My soul has drifted down the stream;
And now beneath the Palisades
I wonder, "Is it all a dream?"
Below the cliffs Manhattan's spires
Glint back the sunset's latest beam;
The bay is flecked with twinkling fires,
Or is it but "Van Kortlandt's dream"?
35
