The sun retires behind the western hills,
And lengthening shadows shew the parting day;
A hollow sound echoes from murm’ring rills,
Which fall from distant rocks and glide away.
Now sol’s faint beams scarce glisten o’er the glade,
All nature’s various beauties sink from sight;
The verdant vales are wrapt in gloomy shade,
And day retires before the mists of night.
Thus life’s vain pleasures short delight impart:
Those scenes, which once so brilliant did appear,
Return no more to chear the pensive heart,
And memory recalls them with a tear.