[[audio/mpeg]Evening.WORDS AND MUSIC COMPOSED FOR MERRY’S MUSEUM; THE LATTER BY GEO. J. WEBB.Music: EveningHow sweet when the daylightIn summer is flown,And the soft veil of eveningIs thrown o’er the scene,’Mid dewdrops and fragranceTo wander alone,As free as the fairies That dance on the green.How changed is each scene!Though familiar it be,Now strange and fantasticIt comes to the eye,—E’en the sigh of the zephyr,That rustles the tree,Seems the whisper of spiritsThat stoop from the sky.The stars, that shrunk backAll abashed from the gaze,When the sun in his gloryShone down from above,Now timid and tenderMelt the soul with their rays,And woo it to HeavenOn pinions of love.Sweet Evening—how fairAre thy charms to the heart,And how blest thus to wanderWith thee all alone!Yet dearer—far dearer,Blest Evening, thou art,When I praise thee to Mary.And call her my own!
[[audio/mpeg]
Evening.
WORDS AND MUSIC COMPOSED FOR MERRY’S MUSEUM; THE LATTER BY GEO. J. WEBB.
Music: Evening
How sweet when the daylightIn summer is flown,And the soft veil of eveningIs thrown o’er the scene,’Mid dewdrops and fragranceTo wander alone,As free as the fairies That dance on the green.How changed is each scene!Though familiar it be,Now strange and fantasticIt comes to the eye,—E’en the sigh of the zephyr,That rustles the tree,Seems the whisper of spiritsThat stoop from the sky.The stars, that shrunk backAll abashed from the gaze,When the sun in his gloryShone down from above,Now timid and tenderMelt the soul with their rays,And woo it to HeavenOn pinions of love.Sweet Evening—how fairAre thy charms to the heart,And how blest thus to wanderWith thee all alone!Yet dearer—far dearer,Blest Evening, thou art,When I praise thee to Mary.And call her my own!
How sweet when the daylightIn summer is flown,And the soft veil of eveningIs thrown o’er the scene,’Mid dewdrops and fragranceTo wander alone,As free as the fairies That dance on the green.How changed is each scene!Though familiar it be,Now strange and fantasticIt comes to the eye,—E’en the sigh of the zephyr,That rustles the tree,Seems the whisper of spiritsThat stoop from the sky.The stars, that shrunk backAll abashed from the gaze,When the sun in his gloryShone down from above,Now timid and tenderMelt the soul with their rays,And woo it to HeavenOn pinions of love.Sweet Evening—how fairAre thy charms to the heart,And how blest thus to wanderWith thee all alone!Yet dearer—far dearer,Blest Evening, thou art,When I praise thee to Mary.And call her my own!
How sweet when the daylight
In summer is flown,
And the soft veil of evening
Is thrown o’er the scene,
’Mid dewdrops and fragrance
To wander alone,
As free as the fairies That dance on the green.
How changed is each scene!Though familiar it be,Now strange and fantasticIt comes to the eye,—E’en the sigh of the zephyr,That rustles the tree,Seems the whisper of spiritsThat stoop from the sky.
How changed is each scene!
Though familiar it be,
Now strange and fantastic
It comes to the eye,—
E’en the sigh of the zephyr,
That rustles the tree,
Seems the whisper of spirits
That stoop from the sky.
The stars, that shrunk backAll abashed from the gaze,When the sun in his gloryShone down from above,Now timid and tenderMelt the soul with their rays,And woo it to HeavenOn pinions of love.
The stars, that shrunk back
All abashed from the gaze,
When the sun in his glory
Shone down from above,
Now timid and tender
Melt the soul with their rays,
And woo it to Heaven
On pinions of love.
Sweet Evening—how fairAre thy charms to the heart,And how blest thus to wanderWith thee all alone!Yet dearer—far dearer,Blest Evening, thou art,When I praise thee to Mary.And call her my own!
Sweet Evening—how fair
Are thy charms to the heart,
And how blest thus to wander
With thee all alone!
Yet dearer—far dearer,
Blest Evening, thou art,
When I praise thee to Mary.
And call her my own!