The sun in ruddy gold was going down,
And calm and far the expanded waters lay,
Clad in the glory of the dying day.
There stretched Aquidnay tow’rd the ocean blue,
In virgin wildness still of isles the queen;
Her forests glimmered with the western hue,
Her vales and banks were decked with cedars green,
And southward far her swelling bosom drew
Its lessening contours, in the distance seen;—