Sunset

From “Queen Mab” IF solitude hath ever led thy steps To the wild ocean’s echoing shore,   And thou hast lingered there   Until the sun’s broad orb Seemed resting on the burnished wave,   Thou must have marked the lines Of purple gold that motionless     Hung o’er the sinking sphere:   Thou must have marked the billowy clouds,   Edged with intolerable radiancy,     Towering like rocks of jet     Crowned with a diamond wreath.     And yet there is a moment,     When the sun’s highest point Peeps like a star o’er ocean’s western edge, When those far clouds of feathery gold,   Shaded with deepest purple, gleam   Like islands on a dark-blue sea; Then has thy fancy soared above the earth,     And furled its wearied wing     Within the Fairy’s fane.     Yet not the golden islands     Gleaming in yon flood of light,       Nor the feathery curtains     Stretching o’er the sun’s bright couch,     Nor the burnished ocean’s waves       Paving that gorgeous dome,     So fair, so wonderful a sight As Mab’s ethereal palace could afford. Yet likest evening’s vault, that fairy Hall!   Heaven, low resting on the wave, it spread       Its floors of flashing light,       Its vast and azure dome,       Its fertile golden islands       Floating on a silver sea; Whilst suns their mingling beamings darted Through clouds of circumambient darkness,   And pearly battlements around   Looked o’er the immense of heaven.