Twilight.

Draped in shadows stands the mountain     Against the eastern sky,     Above it the fair summer moon     Looks downward tenderly;     And Venus in the glowing west,     Opens her languid eye.     Now the winds breathe softer music,     Half a song, and half a sigh;     While twilight wraps her purple veil     Around us silently,     And our thoughts appear like pictures,     Pictures shaded wondrously.     Quiet landscapes, sweet and lonely,     Silvery sea, and shadowy glade,     Forest lakes by man forsaken,     Where the white fawn's steps are stayed;     And contadinos straying     'Neath the Pantheon's solemn shade.     And we see the wave bridged over     By the moonlight's mystic link,     Desert wells by tall palms shaded,     Where dusky camels drink;     While dark-eyed Arab maidens     Fill their pitchers at the brink.     And secluded convent chapels,     Where veiled nuns kneel to pray,     With a dim light streaming o'er them     Through arches quaint and gray,     While down the long and winding aisles     Low music dies away.     There is a starry twilight     Of the soul, as sadly fair,     When our wild emotions are at rest,     Like the pale nuns at prayer;     And our griefs are hushed like sleepers,     And put off the robes of care.