But when eve's silent footfall steals Along the eastern sky, And one by one to earth reveals Those purer fires on high.

Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers.

Now came still evening on; and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad: Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to they grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale.

The voice that breathed o'er Eden, / That earliest wedding day.

God hath sworn to lift on high Who sinks himself by true humility.

In silence, . . . Steals on soft-handed Charity, Tempering her gifts, that seem so free, By time and place, Till not a woe the bleak world see, But finds her grace.