  With silent feet all wet with dew, Comes evening full of soft repose, To kiss the valley deep and blue, With wistful lips, and eyes that close. Her breath is soft, and full of peace, Her arms outstretchÉd to caress Fling benedictions without cease, She seems a spirit borne to bless. And as the evening to the earth, Came love to me, a boon most rare; Hushed every sorrow at its birth, And turned complaining into prayer. |
|
