At Sunset

I've seen the moon, with lifted wing —
A white hawk — over a cypress tree;
The lover's star, the bloom of Spring,
And evening folded on Tennessee.

I've seen the little streams run down —
All smoke-blue, lost in faerie;
And far, the violet mountains crown
The darkness breathing on Tennessee.

I've seen the Beautiful, so clear —
And it has gone to the heart of me;
So there'll be magic ever near
To me, remembering Tennessee.
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