In the first pale flush of even
When the sun is hardly down,
Ere the stars are in the heaven,
Ere the shadows turn to brown;

When the eastern sky is darkened
And the zenith still is blue,
I have stood and dimly hearkened
To the falling of the dew.

I have stood within the hollow
By low, rolling hummocks made,
Close beside a sloping fallow
In the bottom of a glade,

While the west was slowly dying;
And the dark east followed fast,
Swarming over, swiftly flying
Till the world was overcast,

Downward, past the dim horizon
Till the valley filled with night,
And the cool earth-whisper rising,
Filled me with a wild delight!

Let the day go by to even.
Hark! the distant vespers' toll.
When the sun is set in heaven
It is sunrise in the soul.