The Hushed Winds Their Sabbath

Oh, Constellations Of The Early Night That Sparkled Brighter As The Twilight Died, And Made The Darkness Glorious! I Have Seen Your Rays Grow Dim Upon The Horizon's Edge And Sink Behind The Mountains. I Have Seen The Great Orion, With His Jewelled Belt, That Large-limbed Warrior Of The Skies, Go Down Into The Gloom. Beside Him Sank A Crowd Of Shining Ones.

To Him Who In The Love Of Nature Holds Communion With Her Visible Forms, She Speaks A Various Language.

The Sad And Solemn Night Hath Yet Her Multitude Of Cheerful Fires; The Glorious Host Of Light Walk The Dark Hemisphere Till She Retires; All Through Her Silent Watches, Gliding Slow, Her Constellations Come, And Climb The Heavens, And Go.

Ah! Never Shall The Land Forget.

The Rugged Trees Are Mingling Their Flowery Sprays In Love; The Ivy Climbs The Laurel To Clasp The Boughs Above.