At dusk

Softly, with the fading light

Thru' the branches glimmering,

All of our rapture is surging,

Breaking the silence profound.

Blending our souls and our hearts,

And blending all ecstasies;

One with the languor of dreams

Of pines and arbutus trees.

Close now your eyes unto peace;

Cross now your arms unto rest;

Now let your heart have repose,

Banish forever desire.

Let us rest and yield ourselves

To breezes so gentle and sweet,

Which blow in a rhythmic mirth

Thro' grasses and heather.

And when somber night descends

Down from the deep oaks of gray,

Like the voice of our despair

The nightingale chants a song.