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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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 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."
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.
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.
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,
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.
Long on the wave reflected lustres play.
Long on the wave reflected lustres play.
The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!
The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!
