Close of the Year.
AN hour ago the music at the wood,
And the low chant of waves came o'er the glade,
But now no murmur breaks the solitude,
And a stern weight on Nature's pulse seems laid.
Yon moon has seen the death of countless years
From her blue air-halls in the midnight sky,
And lo! her dim sad eye looks down through tears
Upon the earth to see another die.
And the low chant of waves came o'er the glade,
But now no murmur breaks the solitude,
And a stern weight on Nature's pulse seems laid.
Yon moon has seen the death of countless years
From her blue air-halls in the midnight sky,
And lo! her dim sad eye looks down through tears
Upon the earth to see another die.
Silent and beautiful, she sits alone,
The princess of the sky, and in her pale
Sweet light a spell of mournful love seems thrown
Upon the plain, the forest, and the vale:
The princess of the sky, and in her pale
Sweet light a spell of mournful love seems thrown
Upon the plain, the forest, and the vale:
