Archive for November 23rd, 2017

Thursday, 23 November 2017

Twilight Time by Samuel Palmer

And now the trembling light
Glimmers behind the little lulls, and corn,
Ling’ring as loth to part: yet part thou must
And though than open day far pleasing more
(Ere yet the fields and pearled cups of flowers
twinkle in the parting light),
Thee night shall hide, sweet visionary gleam
That softly lookest through the rising dew;
Till all like silver bright,
The faithful Witness, pure and white
Shall look o’er yonder grassy hill,
At this village, safe and still,
All is safe and all is still,
Save what noise the watch-dog makes
Or the shrill cock the silence breaks
Now and then —
And now and then —
Hark! — once again,
The wether’s bell
To us doth tell
Some little stirring in the fold.
Methinks the ling’ring, dying ray
Of twilight time, doth seem more fair,
And lights the soul up more than day,
When wide-spread, sultry sunshines are.
Yet all is right, and all most fair
For thou, dear God, hast formèd all;
Thou deckest ev’ry little flower,
Thou girdest every planet ball —
And markest when sparrows fall

From: Grigson, Geoffrey, Samuel Palmer: The Visionary Years, 1947, Kegan Paul: London, pp. 26-27.
(https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.501267)

Date: 1824

By: Samuel Palmer (1805-1881)