Poems (Brown)/Twilight

by Carrie L. Brown

For works with similar titles, see Twilight.

TWILIGHT. 

---

Softly now the "Shades of Evening"
 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,—

To welcome home their dear beloved ones
 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

Of the sheep upon the hill-side,
 And the merry brooklet's trill;
While the quiet air of evening
 Resounds with cry of "Whip-poor-will."

The woods are clothed with summer's green,
 And fringed with wild-flowers bright;
For here the children love to play,
 By day's departing light.

Each one is happy, gay, and glad,
 As twilight's hour draws on;
With hasty steps they leave the hill,
 For now the day is done.