Evening: an Ode

To Stella.

  Evening now, from purple wings,
  Sheds the grateful gifts she brings;
  Brilliant drops bedeck the mead,
  Cooling breezes shake the reed--
  Shake the reed, and curl the stream,
  Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam;
  Near, the chequer'd, lonely grove,
  Hears, and keeps thy secrets, Love.
  Stella, thither let us stray
  Lightly o'er the dewy way!                                  10
  Phoebus drives his burning car,
  Hence, my lovely Stella, far;
  In his stead, the Queen of Night
  Round us pours a lambent light;
  Light that seems but just to show
  Breasts that beat, and cheeks that glow;
  Let us now, in whisper'd joy,
  Evening's silent hours employ,
  Silence best, and conscious shades,
  Please the hearts that love invades;                        20
  Other pleasures give them pain,
  Lovers all but love disdain.