The Setting Sun

The sun sank down, a crimson ball,In the sad, waveless sea of night;A sullen gloom was over all,Streaked with that strange and fiery light.

The tide of twilight slowly rose,Tinged with the same unhappy glare,And all the stars' sweet silver glowsWere lost in the thick, vaporous air.

A moment, ere in sadness downThe sun sank red and silently,His forehead with its fiery crownShone wild and lurid o’er the sea.

So in the black sea of despair,Sullen and fiery sank my heart,And hot and glowing from the airOf hope and beauty did depart.

Sullen and hot my heart sank low,And its red, wild, and sickly glareGlowed as a maniac's eyes will glowFrom out black brows and hanging hair.

As one by one the sun's red gleamsDied out upon the surging sea,So passion's once delightful dreamsWithin my breast died sullenly.

I watched the long and hopeless night—The storm furled up its pinions black—The sun rose sweet, and fresh, and bright—The tide of twilight murmured back!

But from its sea of endless nightMy mad heart never rose again;Long looked I for one gleam of light,But kept a desolate watch in vain.

Cold, dark, and senseless, still it liesWithin a black and waveless sea,In splendor never more to rise,And shine in love and melody.