Now the west is warm, and now Plaintive is the bird on bough; Now the primrose shyly opes, Watching for its sister stars, And the flocks adown the slopes Loiter toward the pasture bars. Now that thickening shadows throng, This shall be our even-song; @3Unto youth, with night above, Welcome are the wings of love; Unto age, when shades grow deep, Welcome are the wings of sleep!@1 Now the brooding ear receives Little laughters from the leaves; Now the breeze is like a breath Over seas from shores of spice, And the heart within us saith, "We are nigh to paradise!" Now that discord were a wrong, This shall be our even-song; @3Unto age, when shades grow deep, Welcome are the wings of sleep; Unto youth, with night above, Welcome are the wings of love!@1 |