770 SUNSET SUPERSTITION
The sacred lamp of day
Now dipt in western clouds his parting ray.
Oft did I wonder why the setting sun
Should look upon us with a blushing face:
Is't not for shame of what he hath seen done,
Whilst in our hemisphere he ran his race?
Heath—First Century. On the Setting Sun.
Forming and breaking in the sky,
I fency all shapes are there;
Temple, mountain, monument; spire;
Ships rigged out with sails of fire,
And blown by the evening ah'.
J. K. Hoyt—A Summer Sunset.
Down sank the great red sun, and in golden,
glimmering vapors
Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai.
Longsellow—Evangeline. Pt. I. Sec. W.
.Softly the evening came. The sun from the
western horizon
Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er
the landseape;
Twinkling vapors arose; and sky and water and
forest
Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and
mingled together.
| author = Longfellow
| work = Evangeline. Pt. II. Sec II.
After a day of cloud and wind and rain
Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again,
And, touching all the darksome woods with
light,
Smiles on the fields until they laugh and sing,
Then like a ruby from the horizon's ring,
Drops down into the night.
| author = Longfellow
| work = Hanging of the Crane. Pt. VII.
And the gilded car of day,
His glowing axle doth allay
In the steep Atlantic stream.
| author = Milton
| work = Camus. L. 95.
Now in his Palace of the West,
Sinking to slumber, the bright Day,
Like a tired monarch fann'd to rest,
'Mid the eool airs of Evening lay;
While round his coueh's golden rim
The gaudy clouds, like courtiers, crept—
Struggling each other's light to dim,
And. catch his last smile e'er he slept.
Moore—The Summer Ftte. St. 22.
Long on the wave reflected Imstres play.
Samuel Rogers—The Pleasures of Memory.
Pt. I. L. 94.
m
Methought little space 'tween those hills intervened,
But nearer,—more lofty,—more shaggy they
seemed.
The clouds o'er their summits they calmly did
rest,
And hung on the ether's invisible breast;
Than the vapours of earth they seemed purer,
more bright,—
Oh! could they be clouds? 'Twas the necklace
of night.
Ruskin—The Iteriad. Sunset at Low-Wood.
ll
The lonely sunsets flare forlorn
Down valleys dreadly desolate;
The lonely mountains soar in scorn
As still as death, as stern as fate.
Robert Service—The Land God Forgot.
The setting sun, and music at the close,
At the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last.
Richard II. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 12.
When the sun sets, who doth not look for
night?
Richard III. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 34.
The sun was down,
And all the west was paved with sullen fire.
I cried, "Behold! the barren beach of hell
At ebb of tide."
Alexander Smith—A Life Drama. Sc. 4.
How fine has the day been! how bright was the
sun,
How lovely and joyful the course that he run!
Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,
And there followed some droppings of rain:
But now the fair traveller's come to the west,
His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best;
He paints the skies gay as he sinks to his rest,
And foretells a bright rising again.
Watts—Moral Songs. A Summer Evening.
SUPERSTITION
Foul Superstition! howsoe'er disguised,
Idol, saint, virgin, prophet, crescent, cross,
For whatsoever symbol thou art prized,
Thou sacerdotal gain, but general loss!
Who from true worship's gold can separate
thy dross?
Byron—Childe Harold. Canto H. St. 44.
Superstitione tollenda religio non tollitur.
Religion is not removed by removing superstition.
Cicero—De Dmnatione. II. 72.
Accedit etiam mors, quae quasi saxum Tantalo
semper impendit: turn superstitio, qua qui est
imbutus quietus esse numquam potest.
Death approaches, which is always impending like the stone over Tantalus: then cornea
superstition with which he who is imbued can
never have peace of mind.
Cicero—De Finibus Bonorum et Mahrum. I.
8.
Superstitio, in qua inest inanis timor
Dei; religio, quae dei pio cultu continetur.
There is in superstition a senseless fear of
God; religion consists in the pious worship of
Him.
Cicero—De Natura Deorum. I. 42.
My right eye itches, some good luek is near.
Dryden—Paraphrase of Amaryllis. Third
IdyHivm of Theocritus. L. 86.
