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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TWILIGHT'S HOUR, by W. F. E. I.
First Line: The sunlight on a waveless sea
Last Line: Are buried in the great hereafter.
Subject(s): Evening; Sunset; Twilight
First Line: The sunlight on a waveless sea
Last Line: Are buried in the great hereafter.
Subject(s): Evening; Sunset; Twilight
THE sunlight on a waveless sea --
The softened radiance fadeth slowly;
The folded flower, the mist-crowned tree,
Proclaim the gathering twilight holy.
It is the hour when passion bows;
A solemn stillness round us lingers;
And on our wildly throbbing brows
We feel the touch of angel fingers.
It is the hour when lovers fond
(For love its native air is breathing)
Drape with fair hopes life's drear beyond,
Gay garlands for the future wreathing.
It is the hour when in far land
The wanderer, tired of ceaseless roaming,
Longs for the clasp of kindred hand,
And the dear home enwrapt in gloaming.
It is the hour when mankind hears,
Amid earth's mingled moans and laughter,
Chords which will swell when unborn years
Are buried in the great hereafter.
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