 | Poems |  |
216
SUN-SET.
The clouds disperse:—just glancing bright,
The Sun sends forth his shrouded light.
'Tis pleasant on th' horizon's verge,
To see the clouded beams emerge;
Which strove all day 'twixt frown and smile,
Like the coy Beauty's simple wile,
Who seeks to fix her rover's eye,
By thy strong spell, Variety!
It clears!—we'll rest upon the bridge,
And mark yon purple western ridge,
Where the dividing clouds unfold
Long narrow streaks of burnish'd gold;
Now seen amid the clustering trees,
Like flaming sparks borne on the breeze;
Now tipping every verdant elm
With radiant light, like warrior's helm;
Now higher mount the clouds, and higher,
Bursts on the eye that orb of fire!
Lighting the landscape's fair expanse,
Wide, far, the brilliant sun-beams dance;
Now on th'unruffled lakelet playing,
Now on the winding streamlet straying;
Gilding fair cot and white-wash'd farm,
Awakening every sleeping charm;
Chacing the dark sky's vapoury sorrow,
And promising a glorious morrow.
The Sun sends forth his shrouded light.
'Tis pleasant on th' horizon's verge,
To see the clouded beams emerge;
Which strove all day 'twixt frown and smile,
Like the coy Beauty's simple wile,
Who seeks to fix her rover's eye,
By thy strong spell, Variety!
It clears!—we'll rest upon the bridge,
And mark yon purple western ridge,
217
Long narrow streaks of burnish'd gold;
Now seen amid the clustering trees,
Like flaming sparks borne on the breeze;
Now tipping every verdant elm
With radiant light, like warrior's helm;
Now higher mount the clouds, and higher,
Bursts on the eye that orb of fire!
Lighting the landscape's fair expanse,
Wide, far, the brilliant sun-beams dance;
Now on th'unruffled lakelet playing,
Now on the winding streamlet straying;
Gilding fair cot and white-wash'd farm,
Awakening every sleeping charm;
Chacing the dark sky's vapoury sorrow,
And promising a glorious morrow.
How beautiful the sight! the eye
Shrinks from its dazzling majesty,
To rest upon the rosy cloud,
Which overhangs its lustre proud;
Catching the pure refulgent rays,
But softening their excessive blaze.
Refresh'd, the charmed eye returns,
Where that bright orb of glory burns,
Suspended for a moment's space,
He seems to check th' etherial race,
Then sinks beneath th' horizon's bound,
With added speed to run his round.
So sinks the hero's soul to rest,
To rise more bright amid the blest!
Shrinks from its dazzling majesty,
218
Which overhangs its lustre proud;
Catching the pure refulgent rays,
But softening their excessive blaze.
Refresh'd, the charmed eye returns,
Where that bright orb of glory burns,
Suspended for a moment's space,
He seems to check th' etherial race,
Then sinks beneath th' horizon's bound,
With added speed to run his round.
So sinks the hero's soul to rest,
To rise more bright amid the blest!
He speeds upon the viewless wind;
The track of light remains behind;
And golden tint, and rosy blush,
Wide-circling, mix in brilliant flush.
Reflected in the stream below,
How lovely the bright colors glow;
Fring'd in by trees, that shake and quiver
On the clear margin of the river;
That downward growing seem to spread,
And proudly wave th' inverted head.
There, bending o'er the light rail, sleep
Our watery shadows dark and deep;
There, too, my playful favorite bends,
And o'er the stream her head extends;
Graceful inclines the long arch'd neck,
With haughty wave, and sportive beck:
Then starting back, erects her ear,
To see, deep in the water clear,
Another jetty grey-hound rise,
With long arch'd neck and sparkling eyes;
Advance, recede, stoop down, or fly,
With apt and faithful mimicry;
Pursuing still her every motion,
Baffling her every simple notion,
Till, with slow step and frequent pause,
Maria from the bridge withdraws.
'Tis sweet to linger here, and view
The fading landscape's twilight hue;
To mark how nature owns the hour,
That calls to sleep's refreshing bower.
All hasten to their home; the lamb
Meekly pursues its mild ey'd dam;
The plover, with loud flapping wing,
And shrilly scream, is hovering;
The peasant, his day's labor o'er,
Sits idly at his cottage door;
And ploughboys swing on farm yard gate,
And laugh and joke, with heart elate;
Whilst cackling geese, quick flutt'ring come,
And whirring chaffers loudly hum.
O, Nature has no voice, no tone,
Howe'er discordant when alone;
But breathing her glad spirit free,
Bursts forth in general harmony!
The sheep bell low, the screaming bird,
The loud rude jest, the lowing herd,
The insect hum—who'd wish to cease,
Music of Nature, joy, and peace!
The track of light remains behind;
And golden tint, and rosy blush,
Wide-circling, mix in brilliant flush.
Reflected in the stream below,
How lovely the bright colors glow;
219
On the clear margin of the river;
That downward growing seem to spread,
And proudly wave th' inverted head.
There, bending o'er the light rail, sleep
Our watery shadows dark and deep;
There, too, my playful favorite bends,
And o'er the stream her head extends;
Graceful inclines the long arch'd neck,
With haughty wave, and sportive beck:
Then starting back, erects her ear,
To see, deep in the water clear,
Another jetty grey-hound rise,
With long arch'd neck and sparkling eyes;
Advance, recede, stoop down, or fly,
With apt and faithful mimicry;
Pursuing still her every motion,
Baffling her every simple notion,
Till, with slow step and frequent pause,
Maria from the bridge withdraws.
220
The fading landscape's twilight hue;
To mark how nature owns the hour,
That calls to sleep's refreshing bower.
All hasten to their home; the lamb
Meekly pursues its mild ey'd dam;
The plover, with loud flapping wing,
And shrilly scream, is hovering;
The peasant, his day's labor o'er,
Sits idly at his cottage door;
And ploughboys swing on farm yard gate,
And laugh and joke, with heart elate;
Whilst cackling geese, quick flutt'ring come,
And whirring chaffers loudly hum.
O, Nature has no voice, no tone,
Howe'er discordant when alone;
But breathing her glad spirit free,
Bursts forth in general harmony!
The sheep bell low, the screaming bird,
The loud rude jest, the lowing herd,
221
Music of Nature, joy, and peace!
But they are hush'd;—the sky grows pale;
The purple clouds no longer sail;
The gath'ring shades the valley fill;
The low'ring mists obscure the hill;
The ev'ning dew is rising fast,
And ev'ning's loveliest hour is past.
The purple clouds no longer sail;
The gath'ring shades the valley fill;
The low'ring mists obscure the hill;
The ev'ning dew is rising fast,
And ev'ning's loveliest hour is past.
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