IS the "leafy month of June," But the sun is lingering still O'er the old, accustomed hill, In one broad, attempered blaze,— Twilight's shadows deepening 'round him, See the parting god of day And it chequers all the skies. With its bright, innumerous dyes. Waves of clouds, all rich and glowing, Each into the other flowing, Pierced by many a crimson streak, Like the blush on Beauty's cheek; Here and there, dark purple tinges Set in shrines of virgin gold), And, anon, a dewy star, Twinkling from blue depths afar, --- 23 EVENING. Bright as Woman's tearful eye When she weeps, she scarce knows why! Not a sound disturbs the hush Save the mountain-torrent's gush, As it struggles, with a bound, From the depth of shades profound; Now through tangled brushwood straying Lapsing now in parted streams, Like a youthful poet's dreams, Cooling breezes bathe the brow Swell upon the rising gale, On the charmed sense prevail, Till the pulse forgets to move, And the soul is "drunk with love!" ALARIC A. WATTS. EVENING. JHE sun is set; the swallows are asleep; And evening's breath, wandering here and there Over the quivering surface of the stream, Wakes not one ripple from its silent dream. There is no dew on the dry grass to-night, And in the inconstant motion of the breeze The chasm in which the sun has sunk is shut And over it a space of watery blue, Which the keen evening star is shining through. SHELLEY. EVENING. T was a rich, bright, tranquil summer's eve; ALARIC A. WATTS. |