An' hoops a-sheenèn, lily-white,
Ageän the evenèn's slantèn light;
An' zo I took her pail, an' left
Her neck a-freed vrom all its heft;
An' she a-lookèn up an' down,

Wi' sheäply head an' glossy crown,
Then took my zide, an' kept my peace
A-talkèn on wi' smilen feäce,

An' zettèn things in sich a light,
I'd faïn ha' heär'd her talk all night;
An' when I brought her milk avore
The geäte, she took it in to door,
An' if her païl had but allow'd

Her head to vall, she would ha' bow'd,

An' still, as 'twer, I had the zight

Ov her sweet smile droughout the night.

W. Barnes.

EVENING.

HEPHERDS all, and maidens fair,
Fold your flocks up, for the air
'Gins to thicken, and the sun
Already his great course hath run.
See the dewdrops how they kiss
Every little flower that is;
Hanging on their velvet heads,
Like a rope of crystal beads.
See the heavy clouds low falling,
And bright Hesperus down calling
The dead Night from under ground;
At whose rising mists unsound,
Damps and vapours fly apace,
Hovering o'er the wanton face
Of these pastures, where they come,
Striking dead both bud and bloom.

Therefore, from such danger, lock
Every one his loved flock;

And let your dogs lie loose without,
Lest the wolf come as a scout
From the mountain, and ere day
Bear a lamb or kid away;
Or the crafty thievish fox
Break upon your simple flocks.
To secure yourselves from these,
Be not too secure in ease;
Let one eye his watches keep,
While the other eye doth sleep;
So you shall good shepherds prove,

And for ever hold the love

Of our great God. Sweetest slumbers,
And soft silence, fall in numbers

On your eyelids! So, farewell!

Thus I end my evening's knell.

J. Fletcher.

SUNSET.

YET the rich blessing which this hour bestows
Let us not mar with mournful thoughts like these:
See yonder where the sun of evening glows,

How gleam the green-girt cottages!

He stoops, he sinks-and overlived is day;

But he hastes on, to kindle life anew.

Ah! that no wing lifts me from earth away

Him to pursue, and evermore pursue:

Then should I in eternal evening light

The hushed world at my feet behold,

See every vale in calm, and flaming every height,
And silver brooks see lost in floods of gold.

Then would not the wild mountain hinder more
My course divine with all its rugged heads:
Its heated bays even now the ocean spreads
My wondering eyes before.

Yet the god seems at last away to sink;

But the new impulse stirs with might:

I hasten his eternal beams to drink,

The day before me, and behind the night,

The heaven above me spread, and under me the sea:
Fair dream! which while I dream on, he is gone.

Ah! that an actual wing may not so soon

Unto our spirit's wing united be,

And yet it is to each inbred.

That still his spirit forward, upward springs,
When hidden in blue spaces overhead
The lark his shattering carol sings;

When over pine-clad mountains soars
The eagle, spread upon the air,

When over seas and over moors

The crane doth to its home repair.

Archbishop Trench.

From the German of Goethe.

TWILIGHT CALM.

O, PLEASANT eventide!

Clouds on the western side

Grow grey and greyer hiding the warm sun:
The bees and birds, their happy labours done,
Seek their close nests and bide.

Screened in the leafy wood

The stockdoves sit and brood:

The very squirrel leaps from bough to bough

But lazily; pauses; and settles now

Where once he stored his food.

G