BATHED in a dying light
The far out-stretching valley lies
Beneath the mingling veils of day and night;
Fruit trees and gardens, woodland and champaign,
Paths, lawns and labyrinths—a Paradise.
The mountains darken, and the clear
Black waters at their base appear
Sending a last bright message from the skies.
It floods the all-but-lost Elysian plain
Where knoll and bower
Shimmer and peep, till the soft twilight hour,—
To add the magic of a new surprise,—
Washes them into silver gloom again.