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A Cornfield Carol,

The Bilberry Moor,

Song-A Light Bright Lay,

Words of Christmas Coming,

SLEEP.

"O EARTH, so full of dreary noises;
O men, with wailing in your voices;
O delvéd gold, the wailer's heap;
O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall;
God strikes a silence through you all,
And giveth his beloved sleep."

MRS. BROWNING.

The Tide of Even.

PART I.

THE ARGUMENT.-Night-where from. Invisible Ministry at Even. The limits of earthly illuminations. The angel of reflection. The land of light.

YPHENCE comes the Tide of Even? From the TX low,

The hollow leafy dingle, and the valley,

The bosom of the dark Scotch-fir plantation,
And basin of the river in the woodland,
Cometh the Tide of Even. From below,
Not from above, downwafted like a feather,
But from beneath, as from the caves of ocean,
Riseth the Tide of Even, grey and silent.

No! from the far above comes not the dark;
Not from the sungilt moon, nor from the stars,
But from the earth alone. Our darkest night
Is nothing but the shadow of the world,

Gliding out skyward.

Now the sun is setting;

See, while his farewell fires fade slowly out,
How the gloom rises in the quiet valleys,

THE

Tide of Gben,

AND

OTHER POEMS,

With Cales and Songs.

BY JOHN SWAIN,

AUTHOR OF THE HARP THE HILLS,

"COTTAGE CAROLS,' 091817

LONDON:

BODLEIAN

HALL, SMART, AND ALLEN,

25, PATERNOSTER-ROW:

WILLIAM WALKER AND SONS, OTLEY.

280. 0.

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