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SUNSET.
Flame, O fires of the Sunset, where earth and sky have met,
Like the flare of burning beacons on windy headlands set!

Blaze on the distant mountains, blaze on the nearer hill,
While, wrapped in its purple shadow, the valley lies calm and still.

Crown with an aureole golden the trees on the sloping height,
Fall on the startling ocean in showers of crimson light.

Flame till the veils are cloven, the curtains rent in twain,
Till the gates of the temple of heaven are opened to us again,—