And the muffled beat where the breakers meet
Is a soft, sweet lullaby.

The pine-clad hill has a crimson crown
Of glittering sunset glows;
The roofs of brown in the distant town
Are bathed in a blush of rose;
The radiant ripples shine and shift
In shimmering shreds of gold;
The seaweeds lift and drowse and drift,
And the jellies fill and fold.

The great sun sinks, and the gray fog heaps
His cloak on the silent sea;
The night-wind creeps where the ocean sleeps,
And the wavelets wake in glee;
Across the bay, like a silver star,
There twinkles the harbor-light,
And faint and far from the outer bar
The sea-birds call "Good-night."

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INDEX TO FIRST LINES

* * * * *

A cloud of cinder-dotted smoke, whose billows rise and swell

A solemn Sabbath stillness lies along the Mudville lanes