'
_Childe Harold._
Wan and weird the solemn twilight gleameth in the dreary sky,
Dusky shadows growing deeper, sad night-breezes sorrowing by,
Sighing 'mid the leafless bushes bending o'er the sullen stream,
Wailing 'mid the fire-stained ruins darkly rising 'gainst the gleam
Of the wild unearthly twilight. In the shivering evening air
Cheerless lie the gloomy meadows--blight and ruin everywhere!
Far away the wide plain stretches, dark and desolate it lies
'Neath the shuddering winds that murmur, 'neath the gleaming of
the skies;
Hark to the swollen river, how it moaneth in its flow,
'Mid the bridge's fallen arches, 'neath the bushes bending low,
Now unbroken by a ripple, flowing silently and still,
Gives again unto the heavens twilight gleaming wan and chill.
Where the corn once waved in beauty its bright wealth of shining leaves,
Glittering in the noonday's glory, rustling in the summer eves,
As the murmuring wind swept o'er it, bending low each tasselled head,
'Neath the soft and shimmering radiance by the moon of summer shed--
There no plough will make its furrow--waste the sunny field doth lie,
And no grain will wave its tresses to the breezes wailing by.
Where amid the whispering forests once the laughing sunlight fell,
Fallen tree and blackened stump now the dreary story tell
Of the woe and desolation sad Virginia shadowing o'er,
From the fatal Rappahannock to Potomac's fort-crowned shore,
Tell the tale of saddened hearthstones, desolate hearts that mourn
each day
For the dearly loved ones stricken, wounded, dying, far away.
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