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.

The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!

The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.