Eve lets down her veil, The white fog creeps from bush to bush about, The west unflushes, the high stars grow bright, And in the scattered farms the lights come out. The moving Moon went up the sky Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside Arnold Coleridge EVENING ÜBER ALLEN GIPFELN Ü BER allen Gipfeln In allen Wipfeln Kaum einen Hauch; Die Vöglein schweigen in Walde. Warte nur, balde Ruhest du auch. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe IT IS A BEAUTEOUS EVENING, CALM AND FREE T is a beauteous evening, calm and free; IT Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder-everlastingly. Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here, If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, William Wordsworth THE GREAT BREATH TS edges foamed with amethyst and rose, There where the ether like a diamond glows A shadowy tumult stirs the dusky air; The breath of Beauty blows. I saw how all the trembling ages past, last And knows herself in death. George William Russell T TO THE EVENING STAR HOU fair-haired Angel of the Evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, Thy bright torch of love thy radiant crown eyes, ་ And wash the dusk with silver.- Soon, full soon, Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide, And the lion glares through the dun forest. The fleeces of our flocks are covered with Thy sacred dew: protect them with thy influence! William Blake TH NIGHT HE sun descending in the west, The birds are silent in their nest, And I must seek for mine. The moon, like a flower In heaven's high bower, Sits and smiles on the night. Farewell, green fields and happy grove, Where flocks have ta'en delight. Unseen, they pour blessing, They look in every thoughtless nest They visit caves of every beast, If they see any weeping That should have been sleeping, William Blake Α ABSCHIED BENDLICH schon rauscht der Wald Droben wird der Herr nun bald Wie so stille in den Schlünden, Alles geht zu seiner Ruh, Joseph von Eichendorff SWEET AND LOW WEET and low, sweet and low, S Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty. one, sleeps. |