To Contemplation's Sober Eye. / Such Is

Full Many A Gem Of Purest Ray Serene The Dark Unfathom'd Caves Of Ocean Bear: Full Many A Flower Is Born To Blush Unseen, And Waste Its Sweetness On The Desert Air.

Hands That The Rod Of Empire Might Have Sway'd, Or Waked To Ecstasy The Living Lyre.

Nor Grandeur Hear With A Disdainful Smile The Short And Simple Annals Of The Poor.

In The Evening, I Walked Alone Down To The Lake By The Side Of Crow Park After Sunset And Saw The Solemn Coloring Of Night Draw On, The Last Gleam Of Sunshine Fading Away On The Hilltops, The Seep Serene Of The Asters, And The Long Shadows Of The Mountains Thrown Across Them, Till They Nearly Touched The Hithermost Shore. At Distance Hear The Murmur Of Many Waterfalls Not Audible In The Day-time. Wished For The Moon, But She Was Dark To Me And Silent, Hid In Her Vacant Interlunar Cave.

Rich With The Spoils Of Time.