’Tis the sweet hour of Eve, when all1
Is bright above, and calm below ;2
When, save the wretched, none recall3
That earth is but the home of wo.4
Some look upon the waving grove,5
Some gaze upon the dark blue sea,6
Some on the glistening eye of love,—7
I look for thee.8
’Tis twilight, and the plaintive bird9
Wild warbles through the darkening wood ;10
And there her sweetest notes are heard11
By those who love calm solitude :12
While others list the jovial cry13
That, echoing o’er the tranquil sea,14
Bespeaks the home-bound vessel nigh,15
I list for thee.16
Or if upon the passing crowd17
I gaze, what bitter thoughts have birth !18
Yet not from laughter long and loud19
I know the heartlessness of mirth ;20
But there is one whose open brow21
Reveals a spirit calm and free ;22
Ah !  why should mine be troubled now ?23
I think of thee.24
I too can gaze on earth and sea,25
Hear the bird’s note, the maiden’s voice ;26
But none can whisper peace to me,27
None bid my wither’d heart rejoice.28
O when shall calmer thoughts have birth ?29
It hath not been—it cannot be30
Till thou once more return to earth,31
Or I to thee.32