Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/157

Rh And traileth with the splendors of a dream Athwart the dusky land. Uplift thine eyes! Unbroken by a vapor or a gleam, The vast clear reach of mild, wan twilight skies. But look again, and lo, the evening star! Against the pale tints black the slim elms rise, The earth exhales sweet odors nigh and far, And from the heavens fine influences fall. Familiar things stand not for what they are: What they suggest, foreshadow, or recall The spirit is alert to apprehend, Imparting somewhat of herself to all. Labor and thought and care are at an end : The soul is filled with gracious reveries, And with her mood soft sounds and colors blend; For simplest sounds ring forth like melodies In this weird-lighted air the monotone Of some far bell, the distant farmyard cries, A barking dog, the thin, persistent drone Of crickets, and the lessening call of birds. The apparition of yon star alone Breaks on the sense like music. Beyond words The peace that floods the soul, for night is here, And Beauty still is guide and harbinger.