blossoms wait, The dewy gift of eve,Fair brows uplifted tremblingly, The ble.-ssing to receive. Sweet is the hush of eventide,More softly than the light, Oer all things pure and beautifulRest now the wings of night. So like the silence of the soul,When every thought is still ; Like angels with… … Fig. 2. Fig. 3.
Women · American literature · Costume · Arts
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