Poems (Gifford)/In the Twilight

by Elizabeth Gifford

IN THE TWILIGHT.

Wait awhile ere ye fasten the shutters,
 Put the book and the needlework by,
While the lingering crimson of sunset
 Still brightens the western sky.

Wait awhile, till the golden-fringed cloudlets
 Melt into the deepening grey,
And come, let us sit by the window
 And watch the light waning away.

Oh! pleasant it is in the twilight
 To live our young lives o'er again,
To recall the glad days of our childhood,
 Days chequered with scarcely a pain.

To enter once more the old homestead
 That rang with our wild shouts of glee,
Again to embrace our fond mother,
 To climb on our father's strong knee.

Then to ramble away to the meadows
 Or into the woodland's green bowers,
To wreathe our young heads with fresh garlands
 Of fragrant and beautiful flowers.

And sweet to exult in the gladness
 Wherewith even now we are blessed,
And still to look on to the future
 For more than we ever possessed.

But oh! sweetest joy of the twilight
 To leave all of earth far behind,
To climb the delectable mountains,
 Some glimpses of heaven to find.

Wait awhile, ere ye fasten the shutters,
 And 'mid the last shadows of day,
Let us seek for some streaks of the glory
 That never shall vanish away.