A Century of Parody and Imitation

by Unknown

I.

(BRYANT)

The sun sinks softly to his evening post,

The sun swells grandly to his morning crown;

Yet not a star our flag of Heav'n has lost,

And not a sunset stripe with him goes down.

So thrones may fall; and from the dust of those,

New thrones may rise, to totter like the last;

But still our country's nobler planet glows

While the eternal stars of Heaven are fast.