Providence Patriot, Columbian Phenix

FOR THE PATRIOT.

TWILIGHT.

The sun has gone to a glorious grave,
In the western waters blue,
And the glowing cloud and the sparkling wave
Are tinged with a murky hue;
The moon is climbing moodily up
The oriental azure,
And coldly bright bears the mountain top,
As the rays of departed pleasure.
A pensive mood and a dusky shade
O'er earth and ocean come,
And the stars are peering gently forth,
Like flowers round a new-made tomb;
And life goes back on memory's wings
To pore o'er its pristine gladness,
And seek 'mid the heart's bright treasur'd things
A solace for sombre sadness.
The breeze scarce breathes in the leafy bowers
And the stream glides gently by,
Like the noiseless tread of joyous hours
When the one we love is nigh.
The childhood charms of our early home
Like the presence of love steals o'er us,-
'Tis quickly gone, and its friendship's tomb
In perspective comes before us.
To some forest hoar let my footsteps stray
As the evening hour comes on,
Where the whispering tones of friends away
Seem borne the breeze upon-
Or where some stream in its winding clear
Gives back the hue of heaven,
Or the ocean waves with a tone of fear
On the beetling rocks are driven.
At this holy hour I dearly love
To visit the lonely glade,
Where the willow waves the tomb above,
And the cherished dead are laid:
"A loved and a lovely one hath gone,
And her dust in this spot reposes"
Twas a rudely carved and a simple stone,
And supported a tree of roses.
'Tis a holy scene-'tis hallowed ground,
And next to the realms above,-
An angel might love to linger round
The relics of rural love ;
And when the roll of my life's last wave
Shall recoil on eternity's billow,
Where the cypress sighs o'er that green turf grave
Let me lean to my last low pillow.

SELIM.