Still, my heart, now sets the sun,
While the moor is resting,
Herds now homeward are begun,
And the stork is nesting.
Still, my heart, now sets the sun.

O’er the moor-path silence falls
As on roads so winding.
A late bumblebee is all
Keenest ears are finding.
Still, my heart, now sets the sun.

Briefly now the lapwing flies
O’er the bog-pond’s blushes,
Ere it folds its wings and lies
’Neath a roof of rushes.
Still, my heart, now sets the sun.

Eastern window-panes afar
Flare up in the gloaming,
Moorland ponds like tiny stars
Catch the sunset’s homing.
Still, my heart, now sets the sun!