Classic Poem

I wandered at evening beside the still sea,
When the rays of the setting sun streamed o'er its breast,
And the sigh of its wavelets was wafted to me
By the soft breeze that came from the rosy-heavened West.

All calmly its waters lay stretched at my feet,
Not a ripple was seen on its surface of light,
And afar, where the soft sky and bright waters meet,
The sun was descending fast, fast from my sight.

But even when he had sunk in his watery shroud,
And faded away from my strained gazing eyes,
His soft light still lingered in every gay cloud,
And the waters reflected the glow of the skies.

It seemed as if Sol, as he sank down to rest,
Dispersed all his glories and rays at his back,
As a vessel when sailing o'er Ocean's wide breast,
Leaves behind her the white foam that gleams on her track.

'Tis e'en thus with the fast-fading joys of this world;
Like the sun they sink down in the waves of the past,
And our heart-hopes are oft from their pinnacles hurled,
And laid low in the dust by affliction's rude blast.

Yet, although we may stand on the brink of despair,
When the sun of our joys is descending in night,
Still memory will bring back some raptures that were,
As the sun leaves behind him some rays of his light.