Softly The Evening Came

See! he sinks Without a word; and his ensanguined bier

Is vacant in the west, while far and near

Behold! each coward shadow eastward shrinks,

Thou dost not strive, O sun, nor dost thou cry

Amid thy cloud-built streets.

~ Rev. Frederick William Faber ~

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How fine has the day been! how bright was the sun,

How lovely and joyful the course that he run!

Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,

And there followed some droppings of rain:

But now the fair traveller's come to the west,

His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best;

He paints the skies gay as he sinks to his rest,

And foretells a bright rising again.

~Isaac Watts~

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Softly the evening came.

The sun from the western horizon

Like a magician extended his golden want o'er the landscape;

Trinkling vapors arose; and sky and water and forest

Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and mingled together.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~