oft, when Evening sheds her twilight ray, And gilds with fainter
beam departing day, With breathless gaze, and cheek with terror
pale, The lingering shepherd startles at the tale, How, at deep
midnight, by the moon's chill glance, Unearthly forms prolong
the viewless dance; While on each whisp'ring breeze that murmurs
by, His busied fancy hears the hollow sigh."
Thomas Stokes Salmon, 1823
of such Poems |