The beauteous sun Hath calmly descended down to the sea; The heaving waters already are dyed By dusky night; Nought but the evening’s red With golden light still spreadeth o’er them, And the rushing force of the flood Which merrily, hastily skip, Like wool-cover’d flocks of lambkins Whom the singing sheep-boy at even Homeward doth drive. “How fair is the sun!”— So spake, after long silence, my friend, Who with me wander’d along the strand, And half in sport and half in sad earnest Assured he me that the sun was only A lovely woman, Out of convenience married; All the day long she joyously wander’d In the high heavens, deck’d out with purple, And glitt’ring with diamonds, And all-beloved and all-admired By every mortal creature, And every mortal creature rejoicing With her sweet glances’ light and warmth; But in the evening, impell’d all-disconsolate. Once more returneth she home To the moist house and desert arms Of her grey-headed spouse. “Believe me”—here added my friend, With laughter and sighing and laughter again: “They’re living below in the tenderest union! “Either they’re sleeping or quarrelling fiercely, “So that up here e’en the ocean is roaring, “And the fisherman hears in the rush of the waves “How the old man’s abusing his wife: “‘Thou round wench of the universe! “Beaming coquettish one! “‘All the day long thou art glowing for others, “‘At night for me thou art frosty and tired.’ “After this curtain lecture “As a matter of course the proud sun “Bursts into tears, lamenting her misery, “And cries so sadly and long, that the sea-god “Suddenly springs from his bed all distracted, “And hastily swims to the surface of ocean, “To recover his breath and his senses. “Rising out of the sea as high as his bosom; “A jacket of yellow flannel he wore, “And a lily-white nightcap, “And a face all wither’d and dry.” |