Resigns his throne to “sober suited even,”
But decorates while he deserts the sky.
His noonday beams, insufferably bright,
Are now succeeded by a milder blaze,
And every slanting filament of light
Heaven’s kind and cheering effluence conveys.
Now let me wend my solitary way
Where groves and lawns present alternate charms;—
Gaze on the glories of the waning day,
Till night shall fold me in her dusky arms.