In the twilight of a pensive mind,
And the early hour of even,
I watch the sunlight fade from earth,
The stars come out in heaven.
Around me creep the forest glooms,
Around the misty meadow;
The very spots the sun most loved
Lie now in deepest shadow.
A sudden loneness strikes my heart;
The old, hushed grief returns,
As ghosts of heroes grimly stalk
From slowly-crumbling urns.
The phantoms of my early joys,
A legion, round me rise;
A smile breaks through the dusk of years,
A look from buried eyes.
I strike my breast in agony;
I bend a suppliant knee;
My God! my God! O let me fly
And be at rest with Thee!
The sense of night is on my heart,
The hush, the gloom, the chill;
The forest shadows touch my soul
With their fingers wan and still.
Blessed stars, that on your tranquil thrones
In vestal beauty burn,
To you, dear friends of youthful hours,
My eyes now pleading turn.
Draw me to your empyrean heights,
Fair, vesper lamps of even,
To learn, for one quenched light of earth,
Ten thousand wait in heaven.
