Sweet twilight,—of all other hours most blest

Sweet twilight,—of all other hours most blest For those whose prospect is their needed rest; When down the western sphere of heav’n had gone The great and good—the all propitious sun. Oh, Heaven! how gracious is that mid-way hour, When all the day-birds seek their somb’rous bow’r; And when—if not in full—the quartering moon Attracts the eye to the celestial zone,— Such then the hour when George in lowly state Trod erst the precincts of old Rollingate, Where he was welcome—not by her alone, Whom love begat and law decreed his own, But every one, and one among them all Who had for years adorn’d the princely hall; She bade him happiness and kiss’d his hand, And wrought her friendship with George Hollybrand: Thus then. And now the genial feast prepared No longer waited but was meetly shared, Till at a moderate hour they all repaired To rest. Joy reign’d supreme; but with the morn (Ah! where the rose, there also thrives the thorn.) Came grief; for then the sadful news was borne Of Andrew Hodge’s death!—the dear old man Had swoon’d, and died just at the hour of one; Death, monster evil, seem’d to ’ve long’d the hour For his dark deed, and forced life’s chamber-door: His awful mandate found n’ opposing force So in an instant Hodge was fell’d a corse. No longer would the poor old man relate His thousand tales about dear Rollingate. No longer would he make his morning-call And quaff the goblet in the “Servants’ hall,” Which he had done for many and many a year And claim’d his usual “horn-and-half” of beer. Nor would he e’er interrogate again— As he would call her—his “young Mistress Jane,” And list to her sweet replicating word When he would ask about his absent lord. No longer would the folks attending church Behold him strutting through the western porch; Nor would the parson ever more espy Old Andrew Hodge, with his auxiliar eye; Nor would the children run again to meet Him, all expectant of their Sunday sweet:— No, no!—old Andrew now had breathed his last, And all those trivial joys for ever past.