Between the Sunken Sun and the New Moon

Between the sunken sun and the new moon, I stood in fields through which a rivulet ran With scarce perceptible motion, not a span Of its smooth surface trembling to the tune Of sunset breezes: “O delicious boon,” I cried, “of quiet! wise is Nature’s plan, Who, in her realm, as in the soul of man, Alternates storm with calm, and the loud noon With dewy evening’s soft and sacred lull: Happy the heart that keeps its twilight hour, And, in the depths of heavenly peace reclined, Loves to commune with thoughts of tender power; Thoughts that ascend, like angels beautiful, A shining Jacob’s ladder of the mind.”

Collection: 
English
Paul Hamilton Hayne

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