News Observer Chronicle

Twilight.
Oh, twilight hour of faint and mystic
light,
When shadows fall across the fading
land,
And long forgotten voices of the past
Float back and chant like spirits of
the night,
In voices sad and solemn, till at last,
Wavering, they cease in the uncertain
light.
When mists along the water rise and
drift
And hang upon the trembling wavelets
clear,
In which the dark reflections of the trees
Shadowy, indistinct and dim appear
Like specters, tall and gaunt, the cedar
trees
Stand dark against the golden tinted
sky
Whilst from their topmost bough the
settling crow
Utters its desolate and direful cry.
The undulating reeds sway to the breeze
That o'er them sighs its plaintive
wailing note;
In the twilight hush like vespers soft it
sounds.
As o'er the tranquil water it doth float.
Oh, silent hour, dreamlike and indistinct.
When long forgotten voices of the past
Return, and hold communion with the
soul
Oh, sad and sacred hour of dying day.
Where death the hallowed Angelus doth
toll,
Kneel thou to silent night and his
dread sway.
-A. J. Stringer in Dominion Illustrated.