THOU fair-hair’d angel of the evening,  
Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light  
Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown  
Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!  
Smile on our loves, and while thou drawest the          
Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew  
On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes  
In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on  
The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,  
And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon,        
Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide,  
And the lion glares thro’ the dun forest:  
The fleeces of our flocks are cover’d with  
Thy sacred dew: protect them with thine influence.

Poetical Sketches

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