{"id":262,"date":"2015-06-29T21:13:50","date_gmt":"2015-06-29T21:13:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/courses.candelalearning.com\/americanlit1x22x1\/?post_type=chapter&p=262"},"modified":"2015-06-29T21:13:50","modified_gmt":"2015-06-29T21:13:50","slug":"ode-to-evening","status":"web-only","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-britlit1\/chapter\/ode-to-evening\/","title":{"raw":"Ode to Evening","rendered":"Ode to Evening"},"content":{"raw":"by William Collins<\/strong>\r\n\r\n \r\n\r\nIf aught of oaten stop or pastoral song\r\nMay hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear,\r\nLike thy own solemn springs,\r\nThy springs, and dying gales,\r\nO nymph reserved, while now the bright-haired sun\r\nSits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts,\r\nWith brede ethereal wove,\r\nO'erhang his wavy bed:\r\n\r\nNow air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat\r\nWith short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing,\r\nOr where the beetle winds\r\nHis small but sullen horn,\r\nAs oft he rises 'midst the twilight path,\r\nAgainst the pilgrim borne in heedless hum:\r\nNow teach me, maid composed,\r\nTo breathe some softened strain,\r\nWhose numbers stealing through thy dark'ning vale\r\nMay not unseemly with its stillness suit,\r\nAs, musing slow, I hail\r\nThy genial loved return!\r\n\r\nFor when thy folding-star arising shows\r\nHis paly circlet, at his warning lamp\r\nThe fragrant hours, and elves\r\nWho slept in buds the day,\r\nAnd many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge\r\nAnd sheds the fresh'ning dew, and lovelier still,\r\nThe pensive pleasures sweet\r\nPrepare thy shadowy car.\r\n\r\nThen let me rove some wild and heathy scene,\r\nOr find some ruin 'midst its dreary dells,\r\nWhose walls more awful nod\r\nBy thy religious gleams.\r\nOr if chill blust'ring winds or driving rain\r\nPrevent my willing feet, be mine the hut\r\nThat from the mountain's side\r\nViews wilds and swelling floods\r\nAnd hamlets brown and dim-discovered spires,\r\nAnd hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all\r\nThy dewy fingers draw\r\nThe gradual dusky veil.\r\n\r\nWhile Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont,\r\nAnd bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve;\r\nWhile Summer loves to sport\r\nBeneath thy lingering light;\r\nWhile sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves;\r\nOr Winter, yelling through the troublous air,\r\nAffrights thy shrinking train\r\nAnd rudely rends thy robes;\r\nSo long, regardful of thy quiet rule,\r\nShall fancy, friendship, science, smiling peace,\r\nThy gentlest influence own,\r\nAnd love thy favourite name!","rendered":"

by William Collins<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song
\nMay hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear,
\nLike thy own solemn springs,
\nThy springs, and dying gales,
\nO nymph reserved, while now the bright-haired sun
\nSits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts,
\nWith brede ethereal wove,
\nO’erhang his wavy bed:<\/p>\n

Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat
\nWith short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing,
\nOr where the beetle winds
\nHis small but sullen horn,
\nAs oft he rises ‘midst the twilight path,
\nAgainst the pilgrim borne in heedless hum:
\nNow teach me, maid composed,
\nTo breathe some softened strain,
\nWhose numbers stealing through thy dark’ning vale
\nMay not unseemly with its stillness suit,
\nAs, musing slow, I hail
\nThy genial loved return!<\/p>\n

For when thy folding-star arising shows
\nHis paly circlet, at his warning lamp
\nThe fragrant hours, and elves
\nWho slept in buds the day,
\nAnd many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge
\nAnd sheds the fresh’ning dew, and lovelier still,
\nThe pensive pleasures sweet
\nPrepare thy shadowy car.<\/p>\n

Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene,
\nOr find some ruin ‘midst its dreary dells,
\nWhose walls more awful nod
\nBy thy religious gleams.
\nOr if chill blust’ring winds or driving rain
\nPrevent my willing feet, be mine the hut
\nThat from the mountain’s side
\nViews wilds and swelling floods
\nAnd hamlets brown and dim-discovered spires,
\nAnd hears their simple bell, and marks o’er all
\nThy dewy fingers draw
\nThe gradual dusky veil.<\/p>\n

While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont,
\nAnd bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve;
\nWhile Summer loves to sport
\nBeneath thy lingering light;
\nWhile sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves;
\nOr Winter, yelling through the troublous air,
\nAffrights thy shrinking train
\nAnd rudely rends thy robes;
\nSo long, regardful of thy quiet rule,
\nShall fancy, friendship, science, smiling peace,
\nThy gentlest influence own,
\nAnd love thy favourite name!<\/p>\n\n\t\t\t

\n\t\t\t

Candela Citations<\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t
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Public domain content<\/div>