Carroll free press. [volume] (Carrollton [Ohio]) 1834-1861, 1846-05-22
AN EVENING HYMN.
BY THOMAS MILLER.

OF IHoMAS WlLLEhs
Esw many days, with mute adieu.
ilave gane down yot antro ide1 Ky!
Aud slii Il louks a. clear aud blue.
A when IL tirst wa- hulg o. high
The oIline sun. the irowning cloud
Th,t dew thr lightning in iE-rrar,
Th- thunder, trampiug deep aud LOUD,
Have leit no dlk impression there.
The village hrlls. with silver chine,
Cln- sofIpned / y the distant shore;
Thou sh have heard them many tinc,
Th"y never rung 20 sweet before.
And lence rests upon the hill;
A listening owe pervddes the aif
The very flowers are shut and still,
And bowed as il il silent prayer.
The daikcuing woods, the fading trees,
The gra-shopper's Iasl feeble sound,
The flowers ju-t wax krned hy Ihr breeze,
All have lhr slhnrss more pr0iOuni.
The lw light takes deeper shade,
The du-ky pathways b.arker grow,
And silence rrignS il gen sId glade,
Aud all IL mate below.
Now shine the starry hosts Of night,
Gazing on earth with colder eyes;
ITighl gLardians at the hlur-lroWed night,
Wh,t are W in your native -kiss!
IkroS no! nrilh r can know,
Nor on " hat leidcr ye attend,
Nor whence " came, nor wh ther 60.
NIr whI: yo ain Or what yo1r cad.
Yrt there We shine, and there have shoae,
Ella Ole et.rad ''hour OF prime"
Esch rolling burnngy, alone,
Thrr houndles- spacrand countless timp.
Ave, there ye shine, the golden drws,
That pave the realms hy SeraphS trOI;
There, th'ough yon echning vaults dttuse,
The song OF choral WOil,ls To Got.
Sold wtals 10 dust--yrt there yc arc;
Time rols the diamond .--lhelc ye Iel
IN primal light, as il each star
Elshrnrd an everlasting slu9
And d,a4 it not--since your fright lhrongs
One rall-tnlghtrhng spirit own,
Praised there hy pure sidrral ,ongues,
Eternal glorious, tlesi alone!
Could men hut see what you have seer
Untold awhile the shroudrd past,
FROM all that is, to what has bePn,--
Thh gNlca hlWIich! the range how vast!
The birth Of time, the rice, the tall
Ot empires, myrads, ages flown,
Thrones, cities, tongues, arts, w0lshps--aI
The things whose echoes are not goar.
And there We shine, ms if to mock,
The children Of mortal sire,
The storm, the holt, the earthquakes shock
The red volcanoes cataract fr".
/ Ia lt1KI
An uaturt's Is nd te's worst worT,
Are rOnghl to vou;--ye sm.le the same,
And scOrn alike theT dawn and cose.
MOI only doth the voicefn day
Thy oving kindness, Lord! procltim--
Eut night, with It's sublime array
Or worl Is, doth magnify thy name!
Yea--while adornng seraphim
r., tore thee tend the willing knee,
Trrm every star choral hymn
Goes up. increasingly to thee!
Oh Holy Father! mid the calm
And stiffness Of this evening hour,
We here would lift our solemn psalm
To praise thy gnod and thy poweE
And worlds beyond the tur,hrst star
Whose light h,th reached thu human ey,
Shall catch the anrhem from aiar
AL roll il tn 'ou III i'm nensity!
Kep. ty thy goodness tIr'ueh the day,
Thank~ k~giVrg to thy name we pou';
Night o'erus. with it's tears-we pray
Thy love to guard ia eVermnrr!
IL grief conSole--in gll1heSS bless
II dark IpsS guir-il sick less cheer
Til. in the SavOul'+ righteousness,
Before thy throne our souls appear