For I, methinks, till I grow old,
As fair before me shall behold,
As I do now, the Cabin small,
The Lake, the Bay, the Waterfall;
And Thee, the Spirit of them all!
Where Sunset hence must be
For treason not of His, but Life's,
Gone Westerly, Today --
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
Where Morning just begun --
What difference, after all, Thou mak'st
Thou supercilious Sun?