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To the Evening Star
Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this


Descend with broad-winged flight, The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most


The best-beloved Night! 1839.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.



STAR that bringest home the bee,
And sett'st the weary labourer free!
If any star shed peace, 't is thou

That send'st it from above,
Appearing when Heaven's breath and brow

Are sweet as hers we love.

Come to the luxuriant skies,
Whilst the landscape's odours rise,
Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard

And songs when toil is done,
From cottages whose smoke unstirr'd

Curls yellow in the sun.


Star of love's soft interviews,
Parted lovers on thee muse;
Their remembrancer in Heaven

Of thrilling vows thou art,
Too delicious to be riven

By absence from the heart. 1824.

Thomas Campbell.



The night is come, but not too soon;

And sinking silently,
All silently, the little moon

Drops down behind the sky.

There is no light in earth or heaven

But the cold light of stars;
And the first watch of night is given

To the red planet Mars.


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

And smile upon my pain;
Thou beckonest with thy mailed hand,

And I am strong again.


Within my breast there is no light

But the cold light of stars;
I give the first watch of the night

To the red planet Mars.


The star of the unconquered will,

He rises in my breast,
Serene, and resolute, and still,

And calm, and self-possessed.


And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art,

That readest this brief psalm,
As one by one thy hopes depart,

Be resolute and calm.


Oh, fear not in a world like this,

And thou shalt know erelong,
Know how sublime a thing it is
To suffer and be strong.

36 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.



A WIND came up out of the sea,
And said, “O mists, make room for me!”

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Sail on,

It hailed the ships, and cried,
Ye mariners, the night is gone."


And hurried landward far away,
Crying, “Awake! it is the day.”

It said unto the forest, “ Shout!
Hang all your leafy banners out!”


It touched the wood-bird's folded wing,
And said, “O bird, awake and sing ! ”

And o'er the farms, “ O chanticleer,
Your clarion blow; the day is near.”

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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."


It crossed the churchyard with a sigh,

And said, “Not yet! in quiet lie.” 1857

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.


SPIRIT that breathest through my lattice, thou

That cool'st the twilight of the sultry day! Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow;

Thou hast been out upon the deep at play, Riding all day the wild blue waves till now, Roughening their crests, and scattering high

their spray, And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee To the scorched land, thou wanderer of the sea !8

The Evening Wind
Nor I alone,-a thousand bosoms round

Inhale thee in the fulness of delight;
And languid forms rise up, and pulses bound

Livelier, at coming of the wind of night;
And languishing to hear thy welcome sound,

Lies the vast inland, stretched beyond the sight. Go forth into the gathering shade; go forth,God's blessing breathed upon the fainting earth! 16

Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest;

Curl the still waters, bright with stars; and


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.


Stoop o'er the place of graves, and softly sway

The sighing herbage by the gleaming stone, That they who near the churchyard willows stray,

And listen in the deepening gloom, alone, May think of gentle souls who passed away,

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

To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep,

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