It was the cooling hour, just when the rounded
Red sun sinks down behind the azure hill,
Which then seems as if the whole earth is bounded,
Circling all nature, hush'd, and dim, and still,
With the far mountain-crescent half surrounded
On one side, and the deep sea calm and chill
Upon the other, and the rosy sky
With one star sparkling through it like an eye.
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Now in his Palace of the West,
Sinking to slumber, the bright Day,
Like a tired monarch read more
Now in his Palace of the West,
Sinking to slumber, the bright Day,
Like a tired monarch fann'd to rest,
'Mid the cool airs of Evening lay;
While round his couch's golden rim
The gaudy clouds, like courtiers, crept--
Struggling each other's light to dim,
And catch his last smile e'er he slept.
Methought little space 'tween those hills intervened,
But nearer,--more lofty,--more shaggy they seemed.
The clouds o'er their read more
Methought little space 'tween those hills intervened,
But nearer,--more lofty,--more shaggy they seemed.
The clouds o'er their summits they calmly did rest,
And hung on the ether's invisible breast;
Than the vapours of earth they seemed purer, more bright,--
Oh! could they be clouds? 'Twas the necklace of night.
Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows
In yonder West: the fair, frail palaces,
read more
Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows
In yonder West: the fair, frail palaces,
The fading Alps and archipelagoes,
And great cloud-continents of sunset-seas.
After a day of cloud and wind and rain
Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again,
And read more
After a day of cloud and wind and rain
Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again,
And touching all the darksome woods with light,
Smiles on the fields until they laugh and sing,
Then like a ruby from the horizon's ring,
Drops down into the night.
The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!
The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!
When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
read more
When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely storms makes men expect a dearth.
The lonely sunsets flare forlorn
Down valleys dreadly desolate;
The lonely mountains soar in scorn
read more
The lonely sunsets flare forlorn
Down valleys dreadly desolate;
The lonely mountains soar in scorn
As still as death, as stern as fate.
Oft did I wonder why the setting sun
Should look upon us with a blushing face:
Is't read more
Oft did I wonder why the setting sun
Should look upon us with a blushing face:
Is't not for shame of what he hath seen done,
Whilst in our hemisphere he ran his race?
And the gilded car of day,
His glowing axle doth allay
In the steep Atlantic stream.
And the gilded car of day,
His glowing axle doth allay
In the steep Atlantic stream.
