Edward Dowden - Evening, Near The Sea lyrics

Light ebbs from off the Earth; the fields are strange, Dark, trackless, tenantless; now the mute sky Resigns itself to Night and Memory, And no wind will yon sunken clouds derange, No glory enrapture them; from cot or grange The rare voice ceases; one long-breathed sigh, And steeped in summer sleep the world must lie; All things are acquiescing in the change. Hush! while the vaulted hollow of the night Deepens, what voice is this the sea sends forth, Disconsolate iterance, a pa**ionless moan? Ah! now the Day is gone, and tyrannous Light And the calm presence of fruit-bearing Earth: Cry, Sea! it is thy hour; thou art alone.