Dusk by Gordon Cope

Cast a mantle of mist on the valley
Call the sweet nightingale to its nest
Hush the last summer breeze
As it rustles the trees
For the Thames has just gone to its rest.
The song of the lark greets the morning
And the sparkle of waves needs the light
But the dance of the stars
Between Venus and Mars
Is the show for the river tonight.
So moor up the boat to the shoreline
And stack up the hay where it’s threshed
Quell the barge-pilot’s horn
Till the following morn,
For the Thames has just gone to its rest.

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