August Sunset, An

With what a glory in the west
Sinks the golden sun to rest!
Sinks he from our sight away,
Sinks he at the close of day.

Oh, what colors beautify
The refulgent western sky,
'Cross which streaks of purple, red,
Pink and amethyst are spread.

Adown the mountain-slopes, pure streams
Of lovely, golden sun-light gleams,
And shines so bright, and sparkles and
Dances so beautiful and grand.

In yon crystal pond, reminding me
Of that heavenly, glassy sea,
Mingled with fire, lovely, sublime,
Of which I've read from time to time.

So doth the great sun sink away
Calmly at the close of day,
In splendor which by far outvies
That splendor showing at its rise.

As calm, as lovely and serene
Is one whose life has useful been;
More beautiful in its closing hour
Than in the first flush of its power.
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