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THE EVENING STAR.
BY L. E. L.
I come from the caves of the silent sea,
Where the red and white coral wreathe bowers for me.
I leave my blush on the shells beside,
When I rise from the depths of the haunted tide.
I come when the sun has forsaken the sky,
And the last warm colours of daylight die;
And the west is pale and pure as the pearl
That gems the white brow of some eastern girl.
The birds are hushed on the drooping bough,
Save the nightingale lone which is murmuring now;
The bee has gone home to his honey cell,
And the lark has gone down in the grass to dwell.
