POETRY.
SUNSET ON THE RED SEA.
A want of steel-grey waters, and a line Of never-ending crags that bear no tree, Nor any sign Of life, where never aught of life could be, Which frowned, when noon was high, In pitiless compact with the heating sky ! Night falls ; and in the track of burning day, With blazing scimitar, And eyes that flame afar, The Angel of the Sunset comes this Way, And cloaks the brows of every rigid height With royal vesture of outfolding night.
Was it not well that He Who with His presence Heav'n and Earth fulfils, Who gave white crests and thunder to the Sea, And to the Land its grace Of sliding waters, blowing winds, green face, Should crown His glory thus, in that He sPiirs Ilia richest sunsets on the desolate hills?
ED. .T. THOMPSON.
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