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THE light of the day is fading;
The stars peep, one by one,
From behind their azure curtain
That shrouds them from the sun.
The silver moon rises in splendor,
And wheels o'er the vault on high;
Borne by her unseen coursers,
She floats through the mellow sky;
And, bathed in the flooding glory,
The hills and the summer sea
Gloat in her white embraces
In a trance-like ecstasy.
The air is heavy with incense
Breathed from the budding flower;
The nightingale warbles his love-note
From out his leafy bower;
His last trill dies on the water;
It dies on the mountains' breast;
It fades in the tranquil silence,
And nature is at rest,
W. S. B.
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