The sun had set; but, tremulously,
His rays yet gilt the western sky;
The stars with milder radiance shone
Beset with lustre not their own,
And faintly gleaming seemed to mourn
The light of which their spheres were shorn.
But in the east the azure sky
Wore purple of the deepest dye,
Save where the silver queen of night
Soothed its blue shade to tender light.
The stars in bright succession sprung
To light and life, and from them flung
That gentle influence which instils
Its power upon the soul, and fills
(Ah! sad but pleasing melancholy)
The heart with musings high and holy.
Yes! this the hour in mercy given
To wean the world- worn heart to heaven;
In aspiration rapt sublime
We commune with all space, all time;
In unison with the infinite whole