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Sunset


The glorious sun, behind the western hills,
 Slowly, in gorgeous majesty, retires,
 Flooding the founts and forests, fields and rills,
 With the reflection of his golden fires.
 How beauteous all, how calm, how still!
 Yon star that trembles on the hill,
 Yon crescent moon that raises high
 Her beamy horns upon the sky,
 Seem bending down a loving glance
 From the unclouded skies,
 On the green Earth that far away
 In solemn beauty lies; 
 And, like sweet Friendship in affliction's hour,
 Grow brighter still the more the shadows lower.


Pamelia Sarah Vining (J. C. Yule) 

1826-1897


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