BETA

Two women alongside a dog, a donkey, and several goats, cows, and sheep beneath a steep cliff overgrown with trees and plants. One woman sits on the donkey while she points to her right and the other woman stands with her hands on her hips. Several of the animals stand in or drink out of a shallow pool of water. Three men walk separately towards the women from behind. There is a small settlement on top of the cliff. Full-page illustration contained within a single-ruled border.

Evening.

When life is young, and sorrow but a name,1
And from the heart a fountain welleth up2
Of joyous hopes, bright visions, fairy dreams,3
That mock experience, and take for truth4
The fair mirage that fancy has portrayed ;5
Then is the smiling morn the hour beloved,6
Each dew-drop is a diamond, each bird7
That chirps its feeble note a melodist8
More sweet than orient bulbul, every weed9
A flower that shames the roses of Stamboul.10
Anon comes manhood : ’ neath the fervid sun11
Of blazing noon the son of Adam toils12
In the broad fields where stands the heavy corn ;13
The scented hay perfumes the glowing air ;14
Or waving woods, mysterious, cool, and dim,15
Defy bright Phoebus to discover where16
The ring-dove broods, or hind hath hid her fawn.17
E’en as he toils he raiseth up his head,18
Smiles at the smiling sky, and wipes his brow,19
And thanks his God who made the sun to bring20
The plenteous harvest from the teeming earth.21
Youth with its hopes fleets by, manhood decays,22
Like as the rosy morn, the glowing noon,23
And then comes holy eve ; —O hour beloved24
By hearts where memory hath supplanted hope !25
Soft hearts which grief, while stinging, poisoned not,26
But rather made more gentle, more alive27
To influences such as thine, sweet eve ;28
Repose thou giv’st to all: man turns aside29
From the day’s task ; the weary beast that toiled30
Since morning hails the moment that removes31
His galling load ; the cattle, wending slow32
From sunny pastures, seek the well-known pool,33
Whose waters, overhung by ancient trees34
With gnarlèd roots which fold in close embrace35
The hoary moss-grown rocks, are ever cool,36
And give refreshment as the sky above37
Yields it to those whose hearts have thirsted long38
For that repose of which this surely seems39
The feeble yet not all unworthy type.40