John Jay Chapman

The Hudson

BATHED in a dying light The far out-stretching valley lies Beneath the mingling veils of day and night; Fruit trees and gardens, woodland and champaign, Paths, lawns and labyrinths—a Paradise. The mountains darken, and the clear Black waters at their base appear Sending a last bright message from the skies. It floods the all-but-lost Elysian plain Where knoll and bower Shimmer and peep, till the soft twilight hour,— To add the magic of a new surprise,— Washes them into silver gloom again.