To the Evening Star Peace! Peace! prayer! Orestes-like I breathe this Descend with broad-winged flight, The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most STAR that bringest home the bee, Appearing when Heaven's breath and brow Are sweet as hers we love. Come to the luxuriant skies, Whilst the landscape's odours rise, Star of love's soft interviews, Thomas Campbell. 6 12 18 THE LIGHT OF STARS THE night is come, but not too soon; All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky. There is no light in earth or heaven And the first watch of night is given Is it the tender star of love? The star of love and dreams? Oh no! from that blue tent above A hero's armor gleams. And earnest thoughts within me rise, When I behold afar, Suspended in the evening skies, The shield of that red star. O star of strength! I see thee stand 8 42 16 Thou beckonest with thy mailed hand, 20 1839. Daybreak Within my breast there is no light I give the first watch of the night The star of the unconquered will, And calm, and self-possessed. And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art, Be resolute and calm. Oh, fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know erelong, 24 28 32 36 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. DAYBREAK A WIND came up out of the sea, And said, "O mists, make room for me!" It hailed the ships, and cried, "Sail on, And hurried landward far away, It said unto the forest, "Shout! Hang all your leafy banners out!" It touched the wood-bird's folded wing, 66 And o'er the farms, O chanticleer, It whispered to the fields of corn, "Bow down, and hail the coming morn!" It shouted through the belfry-tower, "Awake, O bell! proclaim the hour." 8 12 16 It crossed the churchyard with a sigh, 1857. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE EVENING WIND SPIRIT that breathest through my lattice, thou And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee The Evening Wind Nor I alone,-a thousand bosoms round Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest; Curl the still waters, bright with stars; and rouse The wide old wood from his majestic rest, Summoning, from the innumerable boughs, The strange, deep harmonies that haunt his breast. Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows The shutting flower, and darkling waters pass, And where the o'ershadowing branches sweep the grass. 24 Stoop o'er the place of graves, and softly sway Like thy pure breath, into the vast unknown; Sent forth from heaven among the sons of men, And gone into the boundless heaven again. The faint old man shall lean his silver head 32 |