Country Nightfall

The gray steed, twilight mounted, velvet shod,

Canters through quiet lanes where aspens shake

Their spangles, while beside the cloud-white dock

Selene anchors till a dream is made,

Then smoothly glides her silver yacht to hang

Her veiling spun of opalescent mist

About the silent earth, until at last

The heart at peace can hear God's curfew ring.