30
poems.
TWILIGHT.
Softly now the "Shades of Evening"
Gather round our Mother Earth,
And the laborers, home returning,
Spend the hours in festive mirth.
Gather round our Mother Earth,
And the laborers, home returning,
Spend the hours in festive mirth.
From the door, at evening's twilight,
Comes the busy housewife neat,—
Comes, with song and joyous laughter,
Comes with light and tripping feet,—
Comes the busy housewife neat,—
Comes, with song and joyous laughter,
Comes with light and tripping feet,—
To welcome home their dear beloved ones
From the labors of the day;
And, with rosy, beaming faces,
Come the children from their play.
From the labors of the day;
And, with rosy, beaming faces,
Come the children from their play.
Lovely is the mellow twilight,
Flooding hill, and vale, and dell;
While among the wild green valleys
Can be heard the tinkling bell
Flooding hill, and vale, and dell;
While among the wild green valleys
Can be heard the tinkling bell
