Twilight Voices

What are the whispering voices That awake at twilight fall? Do they come from the golden sunset With their haunting, haunting call?

They tell me of breezy spring-times, And of dreamy summer eves, And of snow-wreaths merrily shaken From the shining ivy leaves.

But the far-off treble changeth To a tenor tone, and so I know that the voices tell me Only of long ago.

What are the tuneful voices That of early dawn are born? Do they come from the orient portals Of the palace of the morn?

They tell of a golden city, With pearl and jasper bright, And of shining forms that beckon Out of the dazzling light.

Then a rush of far-off harpings Blends with the vision clear, And I know that the night is passing, And I know that the day is near!