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Evening benights the day with twilight dim,
Where with twilight comes the shadow’s spectral shade,
Which spreads thy veil o’er the light-ambrosial’d glade,
As the sun doth set beneath th’earth’s shadowy rim;
For with th’evening comes dark-illusion’d dreams;
For all is fancy and all but fantastic seems;
Where fantastic illusion comes with fancied wings,
And rides Diana in her celestial car,
O,er the misty orb the cause of the soul to dream,
As Hesperus quills dream’s ode to th’evening star;
Whilst rings eternal the sweet-song’d woodland stream,
Ere a naiad-sprite to the rim-ey’d moon doth sing,
Whereupon a fairy Wight doth upon a flow’r dream;
For night’s fancy is the orb of illusion’s gleam;
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