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 The lonely sunsets flare forlorn
 Down valleys dreadly desolate;
  The lonely mountains soar in scorn
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 The lonely sunsets flare forlorn
 Down valleys dreadly desolate;
  The lonely mountains soar in scorn
   As still as death, as stern as fate. 
 Forming and breaking in the sky,
 I fancy all shapes are there;
  Temple, mountain, monument, spire;
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 Forming and breaking in the sky,
 I fancy all shapes are there;
  Temple, mountain, monument, spire;
   Ships rigged out with sails of fire,
    And blown by the evening air. 
 The sun was down,
 And all the west was paved with sullen fire.
  I cried, "Behold! the read more 
 The sun was down,
 And all the west was paved with sullen fire.
  I cried, "Behold! the barren beach of hell
   At ebb of tide." 
 It was the cooling hour, just when the rounded
 Red sun sinks down behind the azure hill,
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 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. 
 Softly the evening came. The sun from the western horizon
 Like a magician extended his golden want o'er the read more 
 Softly the evening came. The sun from the western horizon
 Like a magician extended his golden want o'er the landscape;
  Trinkling vapors arose; and sky and water and forest
   Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and mingled together. 
 The sacred lamp of day
 Now dipt in western clouds his parting day.  
 The sacred lamp of day
 Now dipt in western clouds his parting day. 
 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. 
 The setting sun, and music at the close,
 As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
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 The setting sun, and music at the close,
 As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
  Writ in remembrance more than things long past. 
 Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors
 Veiled the light of his face, like the read more 
 Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors
 Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from 
Sinai.