'Tis evening; on Winona Lake

The last glad sunbeams rest,

Shedding their golden glories o'er

Her soft and silken breast.

And as my little boat glides forth

Into their light, behold!

The splashes from my oars are like

Great drops of liquid gold.

And now a softer, richer hue

O'erspreads the western sky;

Trees, hilltops, water—everything

Seems bathed in crimson dye.

And o'er the bosom of the lake

Soft summer breezes glide,

Bringing incense from the lilies

On the other side.

I wonder, oh, I wonder so,

If in that world of bliss

Where sunsets never come, there's aught

More beautiful than this.

Oh, Father Time, if thou from me

All else that's lovely take,

Leave only in my memory

This sunset on the lake.