^MGDNILISE IN A WOOD ^By'Tljecjdo^a ^feylar^> 
Twilight,—a darkling wood. 
The ancient trees, like hoary sentinels 
All silent stand. Down the dim aisles 
The distant, fading sky of dying gold 
Is veiled in purple mist. Above, the heavens 
Of darkest sapphire; one clear star 
Already looking forth expectantly. 
The winds are hushed, the very leaves are mute. 
The purling brook singeth in undertones. 
Her daylight song too loud, too unrestrained 
To match the universal hush. 
Lo! where she comes, threading the leafy ways, 
Cynthia, the Goddess, casting silvery rays! 
