66
THE SISTER'S GOOD-NIGHT!
How mild are the evenings of spring,—
The fields all in verdure are dress'd;
The birds all delightfully sing,
As the sun slowly sinks to his rest.
Not a sound but of pleasure is heard,
All is harmony, peace, joy and love,
The aspen tree scarcely is stirred,—
It is calm both below and above.
The fields all in verdure are dress'd;
The birds all delightfully sing,
As the sun slowly sinks to his rest.
Not a sound but of pleasure is heard,
All is harmony, peace, joy and love,
The aspen tree scarcely is stirred,—
It is calm both below and above.
Sweet flowers around us are strewn,
The primrose, the cowslip and rose;
The lark to his slumber is gone,
And the dove with his mate to repose.
The breeze lingers still in the west,
The landscape fades slow on the sight,
Then let us now haste to our rest,
Good-night! dearest sister, good-night!
The primrose, the cowslip and rose;
The lark to his slumber is gone,
And the dove with his mate to repose.
The breeze lingers still in the west,
The landscape fades slow on the sight,
Then let us now haste to our rest,
Good-night! dearest sister, good-night!
TO A DEAR FRIEND.
My wayward spirit dwells with thee,
Though fate decrees we live apart
My still unconquered soul is free,—
Thine image occupies my heart.
Though fate decrees we live apart
My still unconquered soul is free,—
Thine image occupies my heart.
