Dreary and grey the twilight hour came on,
Duddon was sounding in his wooded vale;
And through the ferns and round each hollow stone
The spirit of the chill night-breeze did wail.
With low and piteous moaning did it swell,
Like a poor ghost, upon the shaggy fell —
When, as we rode, the sun came round and stood
On the hill-top — an altar all of gold:
Twisting in gorgeous coils, like a huge flood,
The crimson steam along the valley rolled.
Rain-drops, like gems, upon the heath were seen,
And the whole earth was hid in golden green,
O it was well our hearts within us quailed, —
The throne of the Eternal was unveiled!