 | Terrible tractoration, and other poems |  |
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THE SPLENDORS OF THE SETTING SUN.
Sol, slowly sinking down the steep of heaven,
With softened splendor greets the musing eye,
Resigns his throne to “sober suited even,”
But decorates while he deserts the sky.
With softened splendor greets the musing eye,
Resigns his throne to “sober suited even,”
But decorates while he deserts the sky.
His noonday beams, insufferably bright,
Are now succeeded by a milder blaze,
And every slanting filament of light
Heaven's kind and cheering effluence conveys.
Are now succeeded by a milder blaze,
And every slanting filament of light
Heaven's kind and cheering effluence conveys.
Now let me wend my solitary way
Where groves and lawns present alternate charms;—
Gaze on the glories of the waning day,
Till night shall fold me in her dusky arms.
Where groves and lawns present alternate charms;—
Gaze on the glories of the waning day,
Till night shall fold me in her dusky arms.
Mark how the clouds now glow like molten gold,
Now gleam like snow-banks, heap'd on banks of snow;
Now dash'd with azure, softer hues unfold,
Now shift and kindle to a furnace-glow!
Now gleam like snow-banks, heap'd on banks of snow;
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Now shift and kindle to a furnace-glow!
Compared with these, what is the pride of art!
Your petty palaces and pigmy spires—
The paltry pageants of the noisy mart,
And all the city-connoisseur admires!
Your petty palaces and pigmy spires—
The paltry pageants of the noisy mart,
And all the city-connoisseur admires!
Should the whole race of man unite as one
To celebrate some glorious festal day,
The simple splendor of the setting sun
Would far surpass their most superb display.
To celebrate some glorious festal day,
The simple splendor of the setting sun
Would far surpass their most superb display.
| Terrible tractoration, and other poems | |