Came smiling forth ’mid roseate hue,
And deepened into brighter lustre
As Night, with shadowy fingers threw
Her dusky mantle round each cluster.
Purple, and floods of gold, were streaming
Around the sunset’s crimson way,
And all the impassioned west was gleaming
With the rich flush of dying day.
Far, far below the wandering sight,
Seen through the gath’ring gloom of night,