Thou fair hair’d angel of the evening, Now, while the sun rests on the mountains light, Thy bright torch of love; Thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed! Smile on our loves; and when thou drawest the Blue curtains, scatter thy silver dew On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full, soon, Dost thou withdraw; Then, the wolf rages wide, And the lion glares thro’ the dun forest. The fleece of our flocks are covered with Thy sacred dew; Protect them with thine influence.