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1850–1931

SUNSET AT INTERLAKEN

John Lawson Stoddard

The sun is low; Yon peak of snow Is reddening‘ neath the sunset glow; The rosy light

Makes richly bright The Jungfrau's veil of snowy white. From vales that sleep Night's shadows creep

To take possession of the steep; While, as they rise, The western skies Seem loath to leave so fair a prize.

The light of day Still loves to stay And round that pearly summit play; How fair a sight

That realm of light, Contended for by Day and Night! Now fainter shines, As Day declines,

The lustrous height which he resigns; The shadows gain Th’ illumined plane; The Jungfrau pales, as if in pain.

When daylight dies, The azure skies Seem sparkling with a thousand eyes, Which watch with grace

From depths of space The sleeping Jungfrau's lovely face. And when the Light Hath put to flight

Night's shadows from each Alpine height, Along the skies It quickly flies, To kiss the Maiden's opening eyes.

The timid flush And rosy blush Which then from brow to bosom rush, Are pure and fair

Beyond compare, Resplendent in the crystal air. And thus alway By night and day

Her varying suitors homage pay; And tinged with rose, Or white with snows, The same fair, radiant form she shows.

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SUNSET AT INTERLAKEN · John Lawson Stoddard · Poetry Cove