Classic Poem

All in a dream i' the twilight,
Glimmering stars in their glee,
List to the murmur of far-off
Ripples of tropic sea.

Low in the westward bleeding
The sun slowly sinks in the wave —
Staining and tinting with crimson
The corals that fashion his grave.

Out through the mist and the vapor,
The cloudy wreaths and the rings,
Sunlight has flown like a butterfly
Brushing the gold from its wings.

Quiet is coming and folding
Our troubles away; and our woes
Are hushed in the cool, fragrant shadows,
Like bees in the heart of a rose.

Come on little stars all silver,
For the terrible sun has gone,
And out of the eastern shadows
The moon setteth sail for the dawn.

Pale are the stars — for the morning
Is blooming fresh as the May;
So through the shadows we wander,
Seeking the perfect day.