Classic Poem

Now the sun at length must finish
This his longest, grand career,
How he lingers ere he turns him
Tow'rd the sea serene and clear!
Nature now with sad forebodings
Feels her youthful God's decline;
Far around, the evening landscape
Seems in mournful calm to pine.

But the quail, who always early
By her chiding wakes the day,
To the sunbeam faint and fading
Sings a final 'larum-lay;
And the skylark soars in singing
Far above the misty vale,
For a moment more to hover
In the beam that 'gins to pale.