The sunset sea — a goblet thick inlaid
With jewels wrought in golden filigree,
An opal from some elfin treasury
Burning with fire and flashing every shade;
While round the dim horizon, wide displayed
The clouds pile up their largess tenderly
As if to clothe the beauty of the sea
In filmy gossamer and soft brocade.
And far away I think I almost hear
A horn's faint echo through the dusk-hour's veil
As in the happy, golden days of yore —
Mayhap, e'en now upon this magic mere
Frail shallops will flit by and mermaids pale
Will lure us back to fairy-land once more!