George Gordon Byron

(22 January 1788 – 19 April 1824 / London, England)

It Is The Hour - Poem by George Gordon Byron

It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the hour -- when lover's vows
Seem sweet in every whisper'd word;
And gentle winds and waters near,
Make music to the lonely ear.
Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
And in the sky the stars are met,
And on the wave is deeper blue,
And on the leaf a browner hue,
And in the Heaven that clear obscure
So softly dark, and darkly pure,
That follows the decline of day
As twilight melts beneath the moon away.


Comments about It Is The Hour by George Gordon Byron

  • Rookie - 59 Points David Bailie (10/31/2014 12:47:00 PM)

    I simply said to myself...How Lovely! (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
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Read poems about / on: flower, lonely, music, moon, heaven, dark, sky, star, water, wind



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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