The Golden Hour.

I.     She comes, the dreamy daughter     Of day and night, a girl,     Who o'er the western water     Lifts up her moon of pearl:     Like some Rebecca at the well,     Who fills her jar of crystal shell,     Down ways of dew, o'er dale and dell,     Dusk comes with dreams of you,     Of you,     Dusk comes with dreams of you. II.     She comes, the serious sister     Of all the stars that strew     The deeps of God, and glister     Bright on the darkling blue:     Like some loved Ruth, who heaps her arm     With golden gleanings of the farm,     Down fields of stars, where shadows swarm,     Dusk comes with thoughts of you,     Of you,     Dusk comes with thoughts of you. III.     She comes, and soft winds greet her,     And whispering odors woo;     She is the words and meter     They set their music to:     Like Israfel, a spirit fair,     Whose heart's a silvery dulcimer,     Down listening slopes of earth and air     Dusk comes with love of you,     Of you,     Dusk comes with love of you.