P. BLOOMFIELD
Reading edition
(
BALLIOL
)
TWILIGHT
The day grows fainter, moonlit evening fills With calm and cool the lilac-scented land, And I feel—were I on the western hills, At last, at last, now might I understand These mysteries of Life; how things began, And why I love my darling as I do, And how came longing to the soul of Man, And whether Death must sever me from you. Ah, hush! A spirit moves abroad, whose veil The poets would give all the world to raise, But, failing, tell some wistful fairy-tale, And laugh, and weep, and go their several ways. The birds are sleeping: nay, I do not know What's in the twilight, makes my heart beat so!