Evening (Poem by Edwin John Dove Pratt)

Beautiful Poem

By Edwin John Dove Pratt

So calm the air; the sunset's dying beat
    Wafts slowly to me from the distant brim
    Of silent waters; evening shadows dim
Press close the day's spent hours, loath to greet
The veiled advance of night; slumbering sweet
    The stillness as the purple threads the rim
    Of yonder crimson, preluding a hymn
Of choral wavelets silvering at my feet.

O restful solitude! Here life's frail trust
    Grows, nurtured near the heart of mystery,
Expands into fruition, from the clod
    Of cynic trappings, orbs to symmetry — 
The place where light strikes through Time's circling dust,
And reverent hush attends the tread of God.

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