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1837–1913

XXXV.

Joaquin Miller

The drowned sun sank and died. He lay In seas of blood. He sinking drew The gates of sunset sudden to, Where shattered day in fragments lay,

And night came, moving in mad flame: The night came, lighted as he came, As lighted by high summer sun Descending through the burning blue.

It was a gold and amber hue, And all hues blended into one. The night spilled splendor where she came, And filled the yellow world with flame.

The moon came on, came leaning low Along the far sea-isles aglow; She fell along that amber flood A silver flame in seas of blood.

It was the strangest moon, ah me! That ever settled on God's sea.

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XXXV. · Joaquin Miller · Poetry Cove