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89
THE SUN WENT DOWN IN BEAUTY.
The sun went down in beauty,
Beyond Mississippi's tide,
As I stood on the banks of the river,
And watched its waters glide;
Its swelling currents resembling
The longing restless soul,
Surging, swelling, and pursuing
Its ever-receding goal.
Beyond Mississippi's tide,
As I stood on the banks of the river,
And watched its waters glide;
Its swelling currents resembling
The longing restless soul,
Surging, swelling, and pursuing
Its ever-receding goal.
The sun went down in beauty,
But the restless tide flowed on,
And the phantoms of absent loved ones
Danced o'er the waves and were gone;
Nautical phantoms of loved ones,
Their faces jubilant with glee
In the spray, seemed to rise and beckon,
And then rush on to the sea.
But the restless tide flowed on,
And the phantoms of absent loved ones
Danced o'er the waves and were gone;
Nautical phantoms of loved ones,
Their faces jubilant with glee
In the spray, seemed to rise and beckon,
And then rush on to the sea.
The sun went down in beauty,
While I stood musing alone,
Stood watching the rushing river,
And heard its restless moan;
And longings, vague, intenable,
So far from speech apart,
Like the endless rush of the river,
Went surging through my heart.
While I stood musing alone,
Stood watching the rushing river,
And heard its restless moan;
And longings, vague, intenable,
So far from speech apart,
Like the endless rush of the river,
Went surging through my heart.
The sun went down in beauty,
Peacefully sank to rest,
Leaving its golden reflection
On the great Mississippi's breast;
Gleaming on the turbulent river,
In the coming gray twilight,
Soothing its restless surging,
And kissing its waters good-night.
Peacefully sank to rest,
Leaving its golden reflection
On the great Mississippi's breast;
90
In the coming gray twilight,
Soothing its restless surging,
And kissing its waters good-night.
The sun went down in beauty,
The stars came one by one,
Speaking from the vault of heaven,
Of the mighty Father and Son;
Speaking to earthly mortals,
Whose souls like the river's tide,
Forever and ever are flowing,
But never are satisfied.
The stars came one by one,
Speaking from the vault of heaven,
Of the mighty Father and Son;
Speaking to earthly mortals,
Whose souls like the river's tide,
Forever and ever are flowing,
But never are satisfied.
The sun went down in beauty,
But still in the calm starlight,
My feet were wont to linger
To the coming of gray midnight;
My heart was filled with musings,
Of past and coming years,
And the thoughts of friends departed,
Filled my eyes with tears.
But still in the calm starlight,
My feet were wont to linger
To the coming of gray midnight;
My heart was filled with musings,
Of past and coming years,
And the thoughts of friends departed,
Filled my eyes with tears.
The sun went down in beauty,
But still in visions fair,
My soul to the gate of heaven,
Was wafted through the air;
The gate of life eternal,
Where cease tumult and strife,
Where men borne down with sorrow,
Lay down the burden of life.
But still in visions fair,
My soul to the gate of heaven,
Was wafted through the air;
The gate of life eternal,
Where cease tumult and strife,
Where men borne down with sorrow,
Lay down the burden of life.
The sun went down in beauty,
Tinging the west with gold,
Gleaming as a symbol in heaven,
Of light in the Father's fold;
And, soul, why fret with emotions,
Of sorrow, joy or renown?
Soon life with all that is earthly,
Forever will be laid down.
Tinging the west with gold,
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Of light in the Father's fold;
And, soul, why fret with emotions,
Of sorrow, joy or renown?
Soon life with all that is earthly,
Forever will be laid down.
The sun will go down in beauty,
'Mid summer and mid winter snow,
When we in the grave are sleeping,
Beyond its radiant glow;
Speak to our souls, my Father,
Their void with comfort fill,
And ease our anxious longings,
And bid them, “Peace, be still.”
'Mid summer and mid winter snow,
When we in the grave are sleeping,
Beyond its radiant glow;
Speak to our souls, my Father,
Their void with comfort fill,
And ease our anxious longings,
And bid them, “Peace, be still.”
Tiptonville, Tenn., on the banks of the Mississippi, August, 1892.
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