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LOVE’S SUNSET.
As shadows lengthen with the day’s declining,
Like troops of dusky spectres onward creeping,
Weaving swart stripes amid the golden shining
Where meadow, brook and moss-grown hill lie sleeping;
With murky fingers Nature’s sweet book closing—
Each bell and blossom and each three-leaved clover,
With stealthy march the sun’s glad sway deposing,
Till, widening, deepening, darkness shrouds earth over: