Summer Twilight Poem

Summer Twilight

Oh, how I love to steal away
And spend an hour in silent musing
Just when the rosy smile of day
In twilight shades its light is losing!
For then a pure and holy spell
On every earthly scene seems dwelling,
And from each woody hill and dell
Soft, faint-toned melodies are swelling.

They are not like the gay, glad songs
Through field and forest daily ringing,
But pensively they float along,
Like wearied ones sweet vespers singing.
And stars come stealing gently forth,
In dewy brightness calmly beaming,
And dew-drops thicken o'er the earth
Like pearls among the dark leaves gleaming.

At such an hour my spirit turns
Away from scenes of mirth and pleasure,
For in its secret depths it yearns
For purer joys and richer treasure.
The twilight hour! the silent prayer
Of thousands at this hour ascending,
Like incense on the dewy air,
With angel-songs is sweetly blending.

The twilight hour! how mild and calm
It woos the soul to meek devotion,
And sheds around a soothing balm
Which stills each day-born, wild emotion!