Page:The Poetical Works of William Collins (1830).djvu/132

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48

ODE TO EVENING.

If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song,
May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear,[1]
Like thy own brawling springs,[2]
Thy springs, and dying gales; 4

O nymph reserved, while now the bright-hair'd sun
Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts,
With brede ethereal wove,
O'erhang his wavy bed:

Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-eyed bat[3]
With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing; 10
Or where the beetle winds
His small but sullen horn,

Variations

  1. Ver. 2. May hope, O pensive Eve, to soothe thine ear.
  2. Ver. 3. Like thy own solemn springs,
  3. Ver. 9. While air is hush'd, save where the weak-eyed bat: