A Sicilian Romance

EVENING

Evening veil'd in dewy shades,

Slowly sinks upon the main;

See th'empurpled glory fades,

Beneath her sober, chasten'd reign. Around her car the pensive Hours,

In sweet illapses meet the sight,

Crown'd their brows with closing flow'rs

Rich with chrystal dews of night. Her hands, the dusky hues arrange

O'er the fine tints of parting day;

Insensibly the colours change,

And languish into soft decay. Wide o'er the waves her shadowy veil she draws.

As faint they die along the distant shores;

Through the still air I mark each solemn pause,

Each rising murmur which the wild wave pours. A browner shadow spreads upon the air,

And o'er the scene a pensive grandeur throws;

The rocks--the woods a wilder beauty wear,

And the deep wave in softer music flows; And now the distant view where vision fails,

Twilight and grey obscurity pervade;

Tint following tint each dark'ning object veils,

Till all the landscape sinks into the shade. Oft from the airy steep of some lone hill,

While sleeps the scene beneath the purple glow:

And evening lives o'er all serene and still,

Wrapt let me view the magic world below! And catch the dying gale that swells remote,

That steals the sweetness from the shepherd's flute:

The distant torrent's melancholy note

And the soft warblings of the lover's lute. Still through the deep'ning gloom of bow'ry shades

To Fancy's eye fantastic forms appear;

Low whisp'ring echoes steal along the glades

And thrill the ear with wildly-pleasing fear. Parent of shades!--of silence!--dewy airs!

Of solemn musing, and of vision wild!

To thee my soul her pensive tribute bears,

And hails thy gradual step, thy influence mild.

Having ceased to sing, her fingers wandered over the lute in

melancholy symphony, and for some moments she remained lost in the

sweet sensations which the music and the scenery had inspired. She was

awakened from her reverie, by a sigh that stole from among the trees,

and directing her eyes whence it came, beheld--Hippolitus! A thousand

sweet and mingled emotions pressed upon her heart, yet she scarcely

dared to trust the evidence of sight. He advanced, and throwing

himself at her feet: 'Suffer me,' said he, in a tremulous voice, 'to

disclose to you the sentiments which you have inspired, and to offer

you the effusions of a heart filled only with love and admiration.'

'Rise, my lord,' said Julia, moving from her seat with an air of

dignity, 'that attitude is neither becoming you to use, or me to

suffer. The evening is closing, and Ferdinand will be impatient to see

you.' 'Never will I rise, madam,' replied the count, with an impassioned

air, 'till'--He was interrupted by the marchioness, who at this moment

entered the grove. On observing the position of the count she was

retiring. 'Stay, madam,' said Julia, almost sinking under her

confusion.