Hymn to the Evening

E'er the sun's declining ray Has left you' distant sky, And the parting streak of day Has shut upon the eye— Come, modest ev'ning, kindly spread Thy dusk-ensabled vest, And teach reflective thought to spread Devotion on the breast. Oh! lift the mind to bless the pow'r, Whose mem'ry still shall last, And bid him serve the present hour, Whose madness lost the past. Instructive, tell the pomp of state, The pride of mighty blood, That none are ever truly great, That are not truly good. To all one admonition give, Unfearful of reply, That he alone deserves to live, Who best prepares to die.

WHEN modest merit seems to shun that praise Th' admiring world to merit ever pays, It takes, unknowingly, the road to fame, And, by declining, gains a surer name.

BE mine to live in private bliss, Safe and obscure in some recess, Since faction and high-minded strife But shake the peaceful lake of life; And better is the little home, Where conscious safety cheers the dome.