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.
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Forming and breaking in the sky,
I fancy all shapes are there;
Temple, mountain, monument, spire;
read more
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.
See! he sinks
Without a word; and his ensanguined bier
Is vacant in the west, while far read more
See! he sinks
Without a word; and his ensanguined bier
Is vacant in the west, while far and near
Behold! each coward shadow eastward shrinks,
Thou dost not strive, O sun, nor dost thou cry
Amid thy cloud-built streets.
- Rev. Frederick William Faber,
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.
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.
The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!
The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!
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."
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?
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.
When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall then winter is at hand.
When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall then winter is at hand.
