While the lights are fading from the sunset's fairyland,
While on butte and buttress dies the crimson afterglow
And the mists creep upward from the river far below.
Down there in the valley house lights twinkle out,
Homeward-wending cattle low, laughing children shout,
While those two stand dreaming of another home to be,
Close beside the river, slipping swiftly toward the sea.
O, thou broad, strong river, rolling from the North,
Dost thou, too, see visions, from the centuries spun forth?
See a lad and maiden in some summer long ago