"We knew not, O Lord! Forgive."
SUNSET IN THE SOUTH
It is Autumn, it is sunset, magic shower of tint and hue;
All the west is hung with banners, white with golden, crimson, blue;
Drooping folds! far floating, mingling, falling on the river's face;
Upturned, placid, silver-mirrored, gazing into endless space.
Faint the breath of eve, low-sighing for bright summer's fading charms;
Woodland cries are echoing, chiming with the sounds from distant farms;
And the stubble fires are gleaming red athwart the wood's deep shade,