The Nocturne Address to the Sunset

Exquisite stillness!

What

Of earth and air!

How bright atop the

The stonecrop’s fire and beyond the

How huge, how hushed the primrose evenfall!

How softly, too, the white crane

Yon honeyed height of warmth and

He can look down on islet, lake and

And crowding woods and voiceless

Or, further gazing, view the

Of cloud- like mountains and of mountainous

Or ghostly wrack below the horizon

Not even his eye has vantage to explore.

Now, spirit, find out wings and mount to him,

Wheel where he wheels, where he is soaring soar.

Hang where now he hangs in the planisphere -Evening’s first star and golden as a

In the sun’s hair - for happiness is here!