Classic Poem

On the brow of Clover Hill
Stands a maiden gazing out
Through the purple twilight still,
Half in rapture, half in doubt;
In the welkin Venus glistens,
While the maiden looks and listens.

On the brow of Clover Hill
Deeper gloaming shadows fall;
Moans the plaintive whippowill;
Lonesome is the cricket's call;
In the welkin Venus glistens,
Far the maiden looks and listens.

On the brow of Clover Hill
Lingering she fondly sighs;
Anxious fears her bosom fill,
Tears bedew her mournful eyes;
In the welkin Venus glistens,
Still the maiden looks and listens.

Footsteps! hark! On Clover Hill!
Faring nearer and more near!
Hearts ecstatic throb and thrill!
“War is over! He is here!”
In the welkin Venus glistens,
Lovers kiss and Heaven listens.