When twilight falls upon our laboring town,
And grateful bells of evening echo far;
When shadows lengthen and grow deeper brown,
And heaven uncurtaineth her earliest star
While night delays, and sunset's tempered glow
Warms the still landscape with its level ray,
Till the soft light seems ling'ring, loth to go
From that calm Indian summer of the day:
Kindling the edge of some Hesperian sky,
The sweet dawn breaks as our late sun descends,
And, marked alone by the All-Seeing Eye,
Morning with eve in solemn beauty blends:
Thus, time-touched bard, shall sunset prove to thee
The unfading morn of immortality.