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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.
When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
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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
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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.
How fine has the day been! how bright was the sun,
How lovely and joyful the course that he read more
How fine has the day been! how bright was the sun,
How lovely and joyful the course that he run!
Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,
And there followed some droppings of rain:
But now the fair traveller's come to the west,
His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best;
He paints the skies gay as he sinks to his rest,
And foretells a bright rising again.
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.
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.
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.
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.