Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening，

    Now， whilst the sun rests on the mountains， light

    Thy bright torch of love； thy radiant crown

    Put on， and smile upon our evening bed！

    Smile on our loves， and while thou drawest the

    Blue curtains of the sky， scatter¹ thy silver dew

    On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes

    In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on

    The lake； speak silence with thy glimmering² eyes，

    And wash the dusk with silver. Soon， full soon，

    Dost thou withdraw； then the wolf rages wide，

    And the lion glares thro' the dun forest：

    The fleeces of our flocks are cover'd with

    Thy sacred dew： protect them with thine influence，

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