Golden-Gray the twilight lingers
In the glory of the west,
Where the whippoorwill is singing
And the lake is lulled to rest.
Every leaf has stilled its motion,
Listening for silent Night,
And across the placid water
Floats a path of golden light.
Gliding o'er its glowing lustre
Gentle Night meets tired Day,
Veiling his resplendent glory
As he slowly steals away.
Now the gray has lost its golden,
Dusky shadows gather deep,
Where the whippoorwill is singing
And the lake is lulled to sleep.