The sun dips low beyond the hills
Slanting beams upon the crystal lake,
Stretch across the gently moving water
In fractured streaks of shivering light.
The western sky, a shade rose-gold,
Fills my vision with the promise of a new day
Coming to me after the sleepless night
With the welcome joys of day.
The deep, clear lake is touched with gold
From the setting sun and the trees
Along the shore stretch their shadows
Over the weary land and lake water.
The beautifully painted sky is rose-purple,
Now rose-grey, shadows deepen,
And except for the lingering of day,
Upon the hill, valley, and tumbling creek
That feeds the mirror lake with life,
The coming of night gradually quickens,
As the sun spreads forth a golden
Torrent of splendor before the night.
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