Sunset Poem by Alec de Candole

THE same sun sets, and spreads its colours due
Broad on the evening sky, with gold, and grey,
Translucent crimson, and each perfect hue
That ever makes divine departing day.
As when to happier days it bade farewell.
Ere yet I left the hills and trod the plain.
But fresh and careless still I felt the spell,
Unhandselled almost yet of toil and pain.
And still it lifts me up from where I stray.
This vision of the loveliness of God,
This sight of coming or departing day,
Brightening with heav'n all earth's dull period.
And past, and future, and this setting sun.
In hope's clear light knit all my life in one.