461. L. M. Goethe. Even-Tide.

1 O'er silent field and lonely lawn
Her dusky mantle night hath drawn;
At twilight's holy, heartfelt hour,
In man his better soul hath power.

2 The passions are at peace within,
And stilled each stormy thought of sin;
The yielding bosom, overawed,
Breathes love to man, and love to God.