Monday, April 27, 2009

Another Sunset

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.
Look round;--of all the clouds not one is moving;
'Tis the still hour of thinking, feeling, loving.

William Wordsworth, On a High Part of the Coast of Cumberland...

4 comments:

walk2write said...

Spectacular sunset and lovely choice of poetry. I lift my cup to you in celebration. Happy Birthday!

colleen said...

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.

Unknown said...

Beautiful words and verse. Have a wonderful day!

TC said...

I've not read much of his stuff, but the man knew how to make words sing!

And a belated happy birthday!