Evening! as slow thy placid shades descend, <br />Veiling with gentlest hush the landscape still, <br />The lonely battlement, the farthest hill <br />And wood, I think of those who have no friend; <br />Who now, perhaps, by melancholy led, <br />From the broad blaze of day, where pleasure flaunts, <br />Retiring, wander to the ring-dove’s haunts <br />Unseen; and watch the tints that o’er thy bed <br />Hang lovely; oft to musing Fancy’s eye <br />Presenting fairy vales, where the tir’d mind <br />Might rest beyond the murmurs of mankind, <br />Nor hear the hourly moans of misery! <br />Alas for man! that Hope’s fair views the while <br />Should smile like you, and perish as they smile!<br /><br />William Lisle Bowles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/evening-40/
