Sunbeam

A gleam of brilliant, golden light

Is cast from westward setting sun,

And shining darts in path so bright,

As straight a way as it may run.


It gleams o’er meadow, field, and fen,

Through mountain mists and valleys deep,

Where cloud and dimness late have been,

And shining ray now brings relief;


Through forests thick with ancient trees,

Upon the paths of olden tread

To burn with silent flame the leaves

Upon the aged, haunted bed;


At last the gleaming beacon glows

Amid the clouds set high aloft;

The earth, and fields, and woods below

Now lie beneath its light so soft.

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