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.
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The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
read more
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.
When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
read more
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!
The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!
