When once the sun sinks in the west
And dewdrops pearl the evening's breast;
Almost as pale as moonbeams are
Or its companionable star
The evening primrose opes anew
Its delicate blossoms to the dew;
And, hermit-like, shunning the light
Wastes its fair bloom upon the night
Who, blindfold to its fond caresses
Knows not the beauty it possesses;
Thus it blooms on while night is by;
When day looks out with open eye
Bashed at the gaze it cannot shun
It faints and withers and is gone