SOON as the sun forsook the eastern main <br />The pealing thunder shook the heav'nly plain; <br />Majestic grandeur! From the zephyr's wing, <br />Exhales the incense of the blooming spring. <br />Soft purl the streams, the birds renew their notes, <br />And through the air their mingled music floats. <br /> Through all the heav'ns what beauteous dies are <br /> spread! <br />But the west glories in the deepest red: <br />So may our breasts with ev'ry virtue glow, <br />The living temples of our God below! <br /> Fill'd with the praise of him who gives the light, <br />And draws the sable curtains of the night, <br />Let placid slumbers sooth each weary mind, <br />At morn to wake more heav'nly, more refin'd; <br />So shall the labours of the day begin <br />More pure, more guarded from the snares of sin. <br /> Night's leaden sceptre seals my drowsy eyes,<br /><br />Phillis Wheatley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-hymn-to-the-evening/
