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<p>123<lb/> | |||
' | <head><hi rend="underline">Friday Evening</hi></head></p> | ||
<p>The shadows of evening come down from the hill<del>s</del><lb/> | |||
And nature is wrapt in repose;<lb/> | |||
<del>The dark frowns of night all the universe fills </del> <add>Now silence & darkness the universe fill</add><lb/> | |||
Day's torch is extinguished, - <del>&</del> <add>but stately</add> silent & still,<lb/> | |||
The moon in her loveliness glows.</p> | |||
<p>The <del>dews</del> <add>mists</add> on the tops of the mountain are spread<lb/> | |||
<del>And the vapors ascend from the vale</del> <add>From the valley<del>s</del> the vapors appear</add><lb/> | |||
A thousand bright lamps <del>shed</del> <add>pour</add> their beams over head<lb/> | |||
And the hoar-frost <del>in garments of silver is led</del> <add>like dew drops of silver is shed:-</add><lb/> | |||
<del>And the <unclear>sage</unclear> of this scattered around by the gale</del> <add><del>The</del> The <del>peace</del> spirit of <del>wisdom</del> beauty is here.</add></p> | |||
<p>How blest is the man who in moments like these<lb/> | |||
Can waft his devotions above;<lb/> | |||
<del>In the</del> <add>With the</add> silence of midnight – the voice of the breeze<lb/> | |||
That sighs in the boughs of the winter-stript trees<lb/> | |||
Can <del>hear</del> <add><unclear>form</unclear> in</add> the <del>heart</del> accents of love!</p> | |||
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123
Friday Evening
The shadows of evening come down from the hills
And nature is wrapt in repose;
The dark frowns of night all the universe fills Now silence & darkness the universe fill
Day's torch is extinguished, - & but stately silent & still,
The moon in her loveliness glows.
The dews mists on the tops of the mountain are spread
And the vapors ascend from the vale From the valleys the vapors appear
A thousand bright lamps shed pour their beams over head
And the hoar-frost in garments of silver is led like dew drops of silver is shed:-
And the sage of this scattered around by the gale The The peace spirit of wisdom beauty is here.
How blest is the man who in moments like these
Can waft his devotions above;
In the With the silence of midnight – the voice of the breeze
That sighs in the boughs of the winter-stript trees
Can hear form in the heart accents of love!
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Identifier: | JB/110/248/001"JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110. |
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110 |
of laws in general |
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248 |
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001 |
friday evening |
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collectanea |
4 |
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recto |
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sir john bowring |
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36238 |
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