"Thou hast thus roused each slumbering might,
And framed thy soul to be
Fit now to climb yon starry height;—
Come, then, and follow me."
HYMN BY TWILIGHT.
See the hues of evening fading
From the sky and tranquil bay;
See the groves, with deeper shading,
Brown the dale as fails the ray.
Hear the distant torrent falling,
Hear the note of whip-poor-will,
Hear the shepherd homeward calling
Flocks that bleat on lonely hill.
See yon cloud the distance glooming,
Hear its far-off thunder roar,
Hear the distant ocean's booming
Billows beat the eternal shore.
God is in the hues of heaven
Fading from the sky and bay;
God is in the shades of even,
That chase the heavenly hues away.
God is in the torrent falling,
In the song of whip-poor-will,
In the voice of shepherd calling,
In the bleating on the hill,
In the cloud the distance glooming,
In the distant thunder's roar,
In the far-off ocean booming
On his everlasting shore.
