Classic Poem

When the light dies away on a calm summer's eve
And the sunbeams grow faint and more faint in the west,
How we love to look on, till the last trace they leave
Glows alone like a blush upon modesty's breast! —
Lonely streak! dearer far than the glories of day
Seems thy beauty — 'mid silence and shadow enshrined, —
More bright as its loneliness passes away —
And leaves twilight in desolate grandeur behind! —
So when grief has made lonely and blighted our lot,
And her icy cold chain o'er our spirits has cast,
Will not memory oft turn to some thrice hallowed spot,
That shines out like a star among years that are past?
Some dream that will wake in a desolate heart,
Every chord into music that long has been hushed,
Mournful echo! — soon still — for it tolls with a smart,
That the joys which first woke it, are long ago crushed!