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Poem by Louisa Sarah Bevington Twilight GREY the sky, and growing dimmer, And the twilight lulls the sea; Half in vagueness, half in glimmer, Nature shrouds her mystery. What have all the hours been spent for? Why the on and on of things? Why eternity's procession Of the days and evenings? Hours of sunshine, hours of gloaming, Wing their unexplaining flight, With a measured punctuation Of unconsciousness, at night. Just at sunset was translucence, When the west was all aflame; So I asked the sea a question, And an answer nearly came. Is there nothing but Occurrence? Though each detail seem an Act, Is that whole we deem so pregnant But unemphasizèd Fact? Or, when dusk is in the hollows Of the hill-side and the wave, Are things just so much in earnest That they cannot but be grave? Nay, the lesson of the Twilight Is as simple as 'tis deep; Acquiescence, acquiescence, And the coming on of sleep. Louisa Sarah Bevington Louisa Sarah Bevington's other poems: Poems of the other poets with the same name: 1392 Views |
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