Excerpt from Hylethen, and Other Poems

Hylethen

All too swiftly to its end

That soft summer eve, sweet friend,

Sank behind us. We,

Half round in our saddles turn'd,

Where its dying splendors burn'd,

Gazed regretfully;

Half, adown the hedge-crown'd hill,

Wistful, would press forward still -

But a warning star

Glimmer'd in the deepening blue;

Quench'd the changeful flush, that threw,

Feebly mirror'd, far

Backward its faint borrow'd glow.

Then we, silently and slow,

Took our backward way.

Toward night-woven leaf and limb,

Broider'd on the pale gold rim

Of the vanish'd day,

Through moist fragrant air, we rode.

On the bridle-hand, now, flow'd

The dim-spreading stream;

Stole now, gently voiceful, o'er

Our grave silence. But, before,

When, in a sunny dream

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