Wednesday, August 4, 2010

At the Twilight Hour

A soft, sweet fragrance in the air
Of dew-wet flowers. Everywhere
A tender, restful silence lies,
Born of the misty, distant skies;
Whence twilight shadows slowly fall,
Like gauzy curtains, over all.
The meadows stretch so mistily,
Far as my longing eyes can see;
And yonder forest hides away
In its own darkness from the day;
And tinkling cow-bells ring in time
To yonder streamlet's slumbrous chime;
And o'er sweet Nature's paling face
Night letteth down her veil apace.

-- Mary Dow Brine (1816-1913)

2 comments:

  1. This was like a breath of fresh air-I could see it all so vividly. Thank you for sharing this one.

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  2. The picture reminded me of a scene from my girlhood, all dreamy and misty. I'm glad that you liked it, too. Thank you for writing, and may God bless you.

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