  See the cloudlets float to rest, At the portals of the west; How they glimmer, how they glance In a merry sunset dance. Beautiful and sweet and fair, As the spirit of a prayer; With what confidence they lie On the bosom of the sky. How they crown the brow of night With a wreath of ruddy light; Fair as any flower that blows In the twilight, pink and rose. Even so our earthly way, It will not be always gray; Soon we, too, shall float to rest— Past the portals of the west. |
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