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A Winter Twilight – Angelina W. Grimké
A silence slipping around like death,
Yet chased by a whisper, a sigh, a breath;
One group of trees, lean, naked and cold,
Inking their cress ‘gainst a sky green-gold;
One path that knows where the corn flowers were;
Lonely, apart, unyielding, one fir;
And over it softly leaning down,
One star that I loved ere the fields went brown.
Sheet Music
Miss Wheatley's Garden
Composer(s): Rosephanye Powell
Voice Type: Versions for High and Low
Purchase Information via Composer Website