SUMMER EVENING AT HOME.

By William Lisle Bowles

Come, lovely Evening! with thy smile of peace

Visit my humble dwelling; welcomed in,

Not with loud shouts, and the thronged city's din,

But with such sounds as bid all tumult cease

Of the sick heart; the grasshopper's faint pipe

Beneath the blades of dewy grass unripe,

The bleat of the lone lamb, the carol rude

Heard indistinctly from the village green,

The bird's last twitter, from the hedge-row seen,

Where, just before, the scattered crumbs I strewed,

To pay him for his farewell song;— all these

Touch soothingly the troubled ear, and please

The stilly-stirring fancies. Though my hours

( For I have drooped beneath life's early showers )

Pass lonely oft, and oft my heart is sad,

Yet I can leave the world, and feel most glad

To meet thee, Evening, here; here my own hand

Has decked with trees and shrubs the slopes around,

And whilst the leaves by dying airs are fanned,

Sweet to my spirit comes the farewell sound,

That seems to say: Forget the transient tear

Thy pale youth shed — Repose and Peace are here.