Full Lyrics
Soft, wrapt in silence, is the air
Of evening’s bright, enchanting hour;
When on the western woodlands fair
The sun’s warm glowing rays do lower.
Is it a spell that fires the heart,
That fills with tears the raptured eye?
As from the noisy world apart,
The glorious sunbeams die!
When as the silvery moon doth creep
Unheard, and noiseless to the sky;
The very angels seem to sweep
Far through the heavenly realms on high.
What solemn thoughts then fill the brain
Of friends, who, clad in garments bright,
Rejoicing join the angels’ strain,
In even’s mellow light.
