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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539513" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ode to Evening</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, <br> May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear,<br> Like thy own solemn springs,<br> Thy springs and dying gales,<br> O nymph reserv'd, while now the bright-hair'd sun<br> Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts,<br> With brede ethereal wove,<br> O'erhang his wavy bed:<br> Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-ey'd bat,<br> With short shrill shriek, flits by on leathern wing,<br> Or where the beetle winds<br> His small but sullen horn,<br> As oft he rises 'midst the twilight path,<br> Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum:<br> Now teach me, maid compos'd,<br> To breathe some soften'd strain,<br> Whose numbers stealing thro' thy dark'ning vale<br> May not unseemly with its stillness suit,<br> As musing slow, I hail<br> Thy genial lov'd return!<br> For when thy folding-star arising shows<br> His paly circlet, at his warning lamp<br> The fragrant Hours, and elves<br> Who slept in flow'rs the day,<br> And many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge,<br> And sheds the fresh'ning dew, and, lovelier still,<br> The pensive Pleasures sweet,<br> Prepare thy shadowy car.<br> Then lead, calm vot'ress, where some sheety lake<br> Cheers the lone heath, or some time-hallow'd pile,<br> Or upland fallows grey<br> Reflect its last cool gleam.<br> But when chill blust'ring winds, or driving rain,<br> Forbid my willing feet, be mine the hut<br> That from the mountain's side<br> Views wilds, and swelling floods,<br> And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires,<br> And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all<br> Thy dewy fingers draw<br> The gradual dusky veil.<br> While Spring shall pour his show'rs, as oft he wont,<br> And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve;<br> While Summer loves to sport<br> Beneath thy ling'ring light;<br> While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves;<br> Or Winter, yelling thro' the troublous air,<br> Affrights thy shrinking train,<br> And rudely rends thy robes;<br> So long, sure-found beneath the sylvan shed,<br> Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, rose-lipp'd Health,<br> Thy gentlest influence own,<br> And hymn thy fav'rite name!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Taylor+Collins">William Taylor Collins</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539513" data-title="Ode to Evening de William Taylor Collins" data-description="If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, 
 May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear,
 Like thy own solemn springs,
 Thy springs and dying gales,
 O nymph reserv'd, while now the bright-hair'd sun
 Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skir..."></div>
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