59
THE TRAVELLER'S EVENING SONG.
Father, guide me! Day declines,
Hollow winds are in the pines;
Darkly waves each giant bough
O'er the sky's last crimson glow;
Hush'd is now the convent's bell,
Which erewhile with breezy swell
From the purple mountains bore
Greeting to the sunset-shore.
Now the sailor's vesper-hymn
Dies away.
Father! in the forest dim,
Be my stay!
In the low and shivering thrill
Of the leaves that late hung still;
