Classic Poem

One evening of a summer that is dead
From a hill-top we watched the sun fall low,
And marked, in clouds with green and gold aglow,
The track of waves about a bold sea-head,
So clear that, each by the other's fancy led,
We heard the very billows' magic flow;
Then o'er the vision saw the darkness grow,
Till all the glory of the sky was shed.

The memory dwells with me. So far apart
We wander in the cheerless world;—though nought
Of sunder'd circumstance or varying thought
Disturbs the kindness of the kindred heart;—
I gladden when we see and think as one,
As in that vision o'er the sunken sun.