Page:Poems Blake.djvu/54

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ON THE HEIGHT
At evening, when the western sky
Burns crimson with the setting sun,
When night's sweet calm is drawing n
   And day is done,—

While lingering shadows stoop to rest
Where the dim valley slopes away,
And fold above its silent breast
   Their mantle gray,—

When down from pastures fair and sweet,
Obedient to the herdsman's cry,
The lowing herds with patient feet
   Go slowly by,—

Still is the mountain top aflame
With sunset banners all unfurled,
As one who lifts her heart's pure fame
   Above the world.

While far below in wavering mood
The flickering shadows grope and fall,