"Now in his Palace of the West, Sinking to slumber, the bright Day, Like a tired monarch fann'd to rest, 'Mid the cool airs of Evening lay; While round his couch's golden rim The gaudy clouds, like courtiers, crept— Struggling each other's light to dim, And catch his last smile e'er he slept."
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Original Language: English
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Sources
Thomas Moore, The Summer Fête, Stanza 22.
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Sunset
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Sunset
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