Poems (Gifford)/In the Twilight
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.