SUNSET.

DOVER CASTLE.

THEN eve's departing beam did feebly shine
I stood and watched thy hoary towers decline
And sink from view into the lap of night.
I've marked them early, when Aurora bright
Drew from thy walls their chill and misty veil;

In midday splendour now thy front I hail.

Thou noble fortress of the British isle,

Though worn by time thy visage yet doth smile
As thou look'st down upon the mighty deep,
Where navies rest as calm as babes asleep,
In yon broad harbour as a mirror fair.
These are thy pride in war, in peace thy care;
Beneath thy ancient towers, proud citadel,
Wealth, commerce, and content securely dwell.

MRS. EMMERSON.

SUNSET.

THE zenith spreads

Its canopy of sapphire, but the west

Has a magnificent array of clouds ;

And as the breeze plays on them they assume

The forms of mountains, castled cliffs, and hills,
And shadowy glens, and groves, and beetling rocks,
And some that seem far off are voyaging

Their sun-bright path in folds of silver :--some

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In golden masses float, and others have
Edgings of burning crimson. Isles are seen,
All lovely, set within an emerald sea,
And there are dyes in the rich heavens,-such
As sparkle in the grand and gorgeous plume
Of Juno's favourite bird, or deck the scaled
And wreathing serpent.

Never from the birth
Of Time were scattered o'er the glowing sky
More splendid colourings. Every varying hue
Of every beautiful thing on earth,—the tints
Of heaven's own Iris,—all are in the west
On this delicious eve.

Behind the green

And billowy horizon once more sinks

The traveller of six thousand years. A wide
And deep-felt pause prevails; the peaceful sway

Of twilight is begun. Bright morning calls

The world to action, and the tyrant sun
With beam intense sweeps o'er it, sparing not
Earth's toiling millions; but sweet evening brings
Her gentle airs to renovate the globe,

And (as the insatiate orb has drunk the streams)
Sprinkles her liberal dews, and, with a hush
Comes on that her beloved may have rest;
The sons of toil.

The fiercely brilliant streaks

Of crimson disappear, but o'er the hills

A flush of orange hovers, softening up

Into harmonious union with the blue

That comes a-sweeping down; for twilight hastes