Berkeley And Jefferson Intelligencer

TO EVENING.

Hail meek ey'd maiden clad in sober grey,
Whose soft approach the weary woodman loves:
As homeward bent to kiss his prattling babes
Jocund he whistles the twilight along.

When Phoebus sinks behind the gilded hills,
You lightly o'er the misty meadows walk,
The drooping daisies bathe in lucid dews,
And nurse the nodding violet's tender stalk.

The panting Dryads that in day's fierce heat
To inmost bow'rs and cooling caverns ran,
Return to trip in wanton evening dance;
Old Sylvan too returns, & laughing Pan.

O the deep wood the clam'rous rooks repair,
Light skims the swallow o'er the wat'ry scene;
And from the sheep cote and fresh furrow'd field
Stout Ploughmen meet to wrestle on the green.

The Swain that artless sings on yonder rock,
His supping sheep and length'ning shadow spies;
Pleas'd with the cool, the calm refreshing hour,
And with hoarse humming of unnumbered flies.

Now ev'ry passion sleeps; desponding love,
And pining Envy, ever restless Pride;
An holy calm creeps o'er my peaceful soul,
Anger and mad ambition's storms subside.

O modest Evening! oft let me appear
A wand'ring vot'ry in thy pensive train;
List'ning to ev'ry wildly warbling note
That fills with farewell sweet thy darkening plain.