The sun behind his crimson veil
Is sinking, and, o'er mountains green,
Fair Hesperus pours his golden sheen,
With sweet delight, sheer in the dale.
Sweet symphonies the ear do greet,
By vernal zephyrs wafted right
O'er fragrant fields of clover white,
Where birds in evening conclave meet.
The humming birds in proud array,
Extract the golden sweets the while,
On balanced wing they rest and smile
In flowers, at the close of day.
And when the evening twilight fled,
Forth through the leafy woodlands peeped,
And up the vaulted heavens leaped
The moon, and wide her radiance spread.