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.

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.

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,

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.

The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!

The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!

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.

Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows
In yonder West: the fair, frail palaces,
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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.

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.