The sun, that seemed so mildly to retire,
Flung back from distant climes a streaming fire,
Whose blaze is now subdued to tender gleams,
Prelude of night's approach with soothing dreams.
William Wordsworth, On a High Part of the Coast of Cumberland...
Flung back from distant climes a streaming fire,
Whose blaze is now subdued to tender gleams,
Prelude of night's approach with soothing dreams.
4 comments:
Spectacular sunset and lovely choice of poetry. I lift my cup to you in celebration. Happy Birthday!
WW knew what he was talking about.
I love the word Cumberland - it smells of sausages and pencils.
Hope your birthday was a good one.
Beautiful words and verse. Have a wonderful day!
I've not read much of his stuff, but the man knew how to make words sing!
And a belated happy birthday!
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