| Phillis Wheatley (1753–1784). Poems on Various Subjects. 1773. | | | | An Hymn to the Evening |
| | | SOON as the sun forsook the eastern main | |
| The pealing thunder shook the heav’nly plain; | |
| Majestic grandeur! From the zephyr’s wing, | |
| Exhales the incense of the blooming spring. | |
| Soft purl the streams, the birds renew their notes, | 5 |
| And through the air their mingled music floats. | |
| |
| Through all the heav’ns what beauteous dies are spread! | |
| But the west glories in the deepest red: | |
| So may our breasts with ev’ry virtue glow, | |
| The living temples of our God below! | 10 |
| |
| Fill’d with the praise of him who gives the light, | |
| And draws the sable curtains of the night, | |
| Let placid slumbers sooth each weary mind, | |
| At morn to wake more heav’nly, more refin’d; | |
| So shall the labours of the day begin | 15 |
| More pure, more guarded from the snares of sin. | |
| |
| Night’s leaden sceptre seals my drowsy eyes, | |
| Then cease, my song, till fair Aurora rise. | | | | |
|
|
