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In The Evening

By James Whitcomb Riley

Topics: classic

I     In the evening of our days,      When the first far stars above     Glimmer dimmer, through the haze,      Than the dewy eyes of love,     Shall we mournfully revert      To the vanished morns and Mays     Of our youth, with hearts that hurt, -      In the evening of our days?     II     Shall the hand that holds your own      Till the twain are thrilled as now,     Be withheld, or colder grown?      Shall my kiss upon your brow     Falter from its high estate?      And, in all forgetful ways,     Shall we sit apart and wait -      In the evening of our days?     III     Nay, my wife - my life! - the gloom      Shall enfold us velvetwise,     And my smile shall be the groom      Of the gladness of your eyes:     Gently, gently as the dew      Mingles with the darkening maze,     I shall fall asleep with you -         In the evening of our days.

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James Whitcomb Riley

About James Whitcomb Riley

James Whitcomb Riley (1849–1916) was an American poet known as the "Hoosier Poet." His dialect poems—including "Little Orphant Annie" and "When the Frost Is on the Punkin"—celebrate rural Indiana life and childhood nostalgia.

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