Now the sun is sinking fast,
Twilight's shadows veil the skies,
And the loveliest and the last
Beam of gentle evening dies.
In his splendour let the sun
Drop into his ocean bed:
He again his race shall run,
Glory circling round his head.
Let him, then, in peace decline,
Promising a brighter ray;
He again shall splendent shine,
Kindling all the world with day.
Holy emblem! so shall we
Sink,-and wake,-and soar above,
Heirs to an eternity-
An eternity of love.