Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, Along Morea's hills the setting sun; Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light; O'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throws, Gilds the green wave that trembles as it glows. On old Aegina's rock and Idra's isle The god of gladness sheds his parting smile; O'er his own regions lingering loves to shine, Though there his altars are no more divine. Descending fast, the mountain-shadows kiss Thy glorious [gulf,]1 unconquered Salamis! Their azure arches through the long expanse, More deeply purpled, meet his mellowing glance, And tenderest tints, along their summits driven, Mark his gay course, and own the hues of heaven; Till, darkly shaded from the land and deep, Behind his Delphian [rock]2 he sinks to sleep.
1 omitted by Still
2 Still: "cliff"
- by George Gordon Noel Byron, Lord Byron (1788 - 1824), from The Curse of Minerva [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Researcher for this text: Graham Musto
Text added to the website: 2004-05-04 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:05
Line count: 18
Word count: 135