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Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889


By John Esten Cooke (1830–1886)

THE FLUSH of sunset dies

Far on ancestral trees,

On the bright-booted bees,

On cattle-dotting leas;

And a mist is in my eyes—

For in a stranger land

Halts the quick-running sand,

Shaken by no dear hand!

How plain is the flowering grass—

The sunset-flooded door;

I hear the river’s roar

Say clearly “Nevermore.”

I see the cloud-shadows pass

Over my mountain meres:

Gone are the rose-bright years,

Drowned in a sea of tears.