The Two Twilights

The muses ring my bell and run away. I spy you, rogues, behind the evergreen: You, wild Thalia, romper in the hay; And you, Terpsichore, you long-legged quean. When I was young you used to come and stay, But, now that I grow older',tis well seen What tricks ye put upon me. Well-a-day! How many a summer evening have ye been Sitting about my door-step, fain to sing And tell old tales, while through the fragrant dark Burned the large planets, throbbed the brooding sound Of crickets and the tree-toads' ceaseless ring; And in the meads the fire-fly lit her spark Where from my threshold sank the vale profound.