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Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889

The Autumn Evening

By William Bourne Oliver Peabody (1799–1847)

[Born in Exeter, N. H., 1799. Died at Springfield, Mass., 1847. Literary Remains. 1850.]

BEHOLD the western evening light!

It melts in deepening gloom:

So calmly Christians sink away,

Descending to the tomb.

The wind breathes low; the withering leaf

Scarce whispers from the tree:

So gently flows the parting breath,

When good men cease to be.

How beautiful on all the hills

The crimson light is shed!

’Tis like the peace the Christian gives

To mourners round his bed.

How mildly on the wandering cloud

The sunset beam is cast!

’Tis like the memory left behind

When loved ones breathe their last.

And now, above the the dews of night,

The yellow star appears:

So faith springs in the hearts of those

Whose eyes are bathed in tears.

But soon the morning’s happier light

Its glory shall restore;

And eyelids that are sealed in death

Shall wake to close no more.