Sunset ^*

C OULD I but paint a sunset I saw the other night
      Could I but paint the colors which streamed upon the
     light,
With rare and golden settings, which like rubies deep and
     true
Shone forth, between the wall of clouds, with all their varied
     hue:

A giant cloud appeared below, and broken clouds above,
And at the juncture ruby-red, the sun, with beams of love
It seemed, distilled into those clouds, a warmth which
     changed the gloom
To pictures fair; to pictures rare, where deeper flowers bloom.

Beneath, diverging down and out, as reaching to the sea,
Appeared the silver, glowing rays, which beam for you and
     me;
As silver ribbons, quite pronounced, as if a hand on high
Suspended them, while fairies grasped, wove Maypoles to the
     sky.

And while I mused and sought to look beyond the picture
     fair;
Along probation's road I saw sweet pearls of life and rare,
And while I fondly dwelt upon this scene at close of day,
It faded from my anxious eyes, and melted quite away.

^* observed by the writer November 5, 1911, while on the Warren and Jamestown street-
car between Frewsburg and Fentonville, N. Y. The picture was too beautiful ever to fade
from memory -J. B. C.

Sunset *

Sunset ^*