Sunset is one of the fascinating natural phenomena that stir a range of emotions within us.
As the sun dips below the horizon, it creates a stunning display of colors that paint the sky in shades of orange, pink, and purple, leaving us in awe of its beauty.
For centuries, poets have been inspired by this magical moment, and through their words, they have captured the essence of this serene moment by writing poems about sunset.
So, let us explore some of the most beautiful sunset poems that touch our hearts and leave us mesmerized.
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Famous Sunset Poems
Here are some of the most famous sunset poems that capture the beauty and serenity of this natural phenomenon.
Now the sun is sinking
In the golden west;
Birds and bees and children
All have gone to rest;
And the merry streamlet,
As it runs along,
With a voice of sweetness
Sings its evening song.
Cowslip, daisy, violet,
In their little beds,
All among the grasses
Hide their heavy heads;
There they’ll all, sweet darlings,
Lie in the happy dreams.
Till the rosy morning
Wakes them with its beams.
2. The Sunset, Woven of Soft Lights
The sunset, woven of soft lights
And tender colors, lingers late,
As looking back on all day’s dreary plights,
— The foolish day of hopes so high,
Who counts her hours by blunders now,
Yet wears at last this jewel-crown of sky
Upon her brow.
Out to eternity she goes,
Not for her failure scorned, but see!
Our poor day flushed with beauty, one more rose
On God’s rose-tree.
3. The Golden Sunset
by Samuel Longfellow
The golden sea its mirror spreads
Beneath the golden skies,
And but a narrow strip between
Of earth and shadow lies.
The cloud-like cliffs, the cliff-like clouds,
Dissolved in glory, float,
And midway of the radiant floods
Hangs silently the boat.
The sea is but another sky,
The sky a sea as well,
And which is earth and which the heavens
The eye can scarcely tell.
So when for me life’s latest hour
Soft passes to its end,
May glory, born of earth and heaven,
The earth and heaven blend.
Flooded with light the spirits float,
With silent rapture glow,
Till where earth ends and heaven begins
The soul shall scarcely know.
4. At Sunset
by Madison Cawein
Into the sunset’s turquoise marge
The moon dips, like a pearly barge
Enchantment sails through magic seas
To fairyland Hesperides,
Over the hills and away.
Into the fields, in ghost-gray gown,
The young-eyed Dusk comes slowly down;
Her apron filled with stars she stands,
And one or two slip from her hands
Over the hills and away.
Above the wood’s black caldron bends
The witch-faced Night and, muttering, blends
The dew and heat, whose bubbles make
The mist and musk that haunt the brake
Over the hills and away.
Oh, come with me, and let us go
Beyond the sunset lying low,
Beyond the twilight and the night
Into Love’s kingdom of long light
Over the hills and away.
5. In Gold Lacquer
by Bliss Carman
Gold are the great trees overhead,
And gold the leaf-strewn grass,
As though a cloth of gold were spread
To let a seraph pass.
And where the pageant should go by,
Meadow and wood and stream,
The world is all of lacquered gold,
Expectant as a dream.
Against the sunset’s burning gold,
Etched in dark monotone
Behind its alley of grey trees
And gateposts of grey stone,
Stands the Old Manse, about whose eaves
An air of mystery clings,
Abandoned to the lonely peace
Of bygone ghostly things.
In molten gold the river winds
With languid sweep and turn,
Beside the red-gold wooded hill
Yellowed with ash and fern.
The streets are tiled with gold-green shade
And arched with fretted gold,
Ecstatic aisles that richly thread
This minster grim and old.
The air is flecked with filtered gold,—
The shimmer of romance
Whose ageless glamour still must hold
The world as in a trance,
Pouring o’er every time and place
Light of an amber sea,
The spell of all the gladsome things
That have been or shall be.
6. Out of the Sunset’s Red
by William Stanley Braithwaite
Out of the sunset’s red
Into the blushing sea,
The winds of day drop dead
And dreams come home to me. —
The sea is still, — and apart
Is a stillness in my heart.
The night comes up the beach,
The dark steals over all,
Though silence has no speech
I hear the sea-dreams call
To my heart; — and in reply
It answers with a sigh.
7. Winter Twilight
by Bliss Carman
Along the wintry skyline,
Crowning the rocky crest,
Stands the bare screen of hardwood trees
Against the saffron west, —
Its gray and purple network
Of branching tracery
Outspread upon the lucent air,
Like weed within the sea.
The scarlet robe of autumn
Renounced and put away,
The mystic Earth is fairer still, —
A Puritan in gray.
The spirit of the winter,
How tender, how austere!
Yet all the ardor of the spring
And summer’s dream are here.
Fear not, O timid lover,
The touch of frost and rime!
This is the virtue that sustained
The roses in their prime.
The anthem of the northwind
Shall hallow thy despair,
The benediction of the snow
Be answer to thy prayer.
And now the star of evening
That is the pilgrim’s sign,
Is lighted in the primrose dusk,—
A lamp before a shrine.
Peace fills the mighty minster,
Tranquil and gray and old,
And all the chancel of the west
Is bright with paling gold.
A little wind goes sifting
Along the meadow floor,—
Like steps of lovely penitents
Who sighingly adore.
Then falls the twilight curtain,
And fades the eerie light,
And frost and silence turn the keys
In the great doors of night.
8. Beautiful Sunset
by Eva M. What
I gaze at the beautiful sunset,
Portrayed by an Artist Divine,
In colors of roseate splendor,
In which mellow glories do shine.
Was ever a scene so majestic
Wrought daily for mortals below?
Methinks that the angels of heaven
Are charmed with its radiant glow.
Now misty, gray clouds are approaching;
Will they hinder this marvelous scene?
Ah, no! they transform to the grandeur
Of the sunset, so calm and serene.
The mountains so lofty and somber,
And hitherto bleak as the snow,
Now bathed in this far-reaching splendor,
Become with the sunset aglow.
Then each with its rare beauty tinted,
Reflects on the valley forlorn,
The soft, mellow halo of sunset,
More fair than the glow of the moon.
Be each of our lives as the sunset,
Adorned by the great Artist’s hand,
Reflecting the light in the darkness
As He in his wisdom has planned,
Till like the gray clouds and bleak mountains,
And the vale when the day has withdrawn,
Each life may be lighted with beauties —
As these, and keep passing them on.
And as we are clothed like the sunset,
With beauty the world to adorn,
God grant that life’s eve be more brilliant.
With glory, by far, than its morn.
Beautiful Sunset Poems
This category has a list of poems on beautiful sunset. From the breathtaking orange glow to the calming blues, these poems express the true beauty of a sunset.
1. At Twilight
by Bliss Carman
Now the fire is lighted
On the chimney stone,
Day goes down the valley,
I am left alone.
Now the misty purple
Floods the darkened vale,
And the stars come out
On the twilight trail.
The mountain river murmurs
In his rocky bed,
And the stealthy shadows
Fill the house with dread.
Then I hear your laughter
At the open door, —
Brightly burns the fire,
I need fear no more.
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
The river sleeps beneath the sky,
And clasps the shadows to its breast;
The crescent moon shines dim on high;
And in the lately radiant west
The gold is fading into gray.
Now stills the lark his festive lay,
And mourns with me the dying day.
While in the south the first faint star
Lifts to the night its silver face,
And twinkles to the moon afar
Across the heaven’s graying space,
Low murmurs reach me from the town,
As Day puts on her sombre crown,
And shakes her mantle darkly down.
3. Golden Gate Sunset
by William Henry Dawson
Oh, the beauty of a sunset
Viewed from San Francisco Bay!
It just seems to make the soul let
Loose from earth and fly away
To a land of love and glory—
To a feast of sweet repose:
Language cannot tell the story—
He who sees it, only, knows.
Oh, the loveliness of sunset,
Viewed from ‘Frisco’s Golden Gate!
It lifts the soul where it can get
A glimpse of heavenly estate.
Soul that’s weary—heavy-laden,
Bent beneath the chastening rod,
When it views a golden sunset,
Touches hands with Nature’s God.
by Ruby Archer
Come and marvel at the sunset!
Lo—a storm is brooding near,—
All the thirsty world imploring,
In a mood akin to fear.
Like a beaker in her fingers
Holds the world the valley high,
Mountain-lipped and cañon-hearted,
To the largess of the sky.
But the sky, capricious ever,
Hides the storm unbroken still;
And the pallid, sun-born nectar
Doth the beaker brimming fill.
See the weirdly golden essence
Lurk along, the shades between,
‘Till it drowns and rolls above them
In triumphant glare of sheen.
by Raymond Garfield Dandridge
Built in space,
With dwindl’ing light
Of stricken day,
At dying hour.
The reek appears
At distant edge of earth,
A straightened rainbow
Reaching far into the sky—
You are an artist, Sun!
6. A Picture
by William Osborn Stoddard
Saturday night: the sun is going down;
The purple light glows on the river’s breast,
Far in the east the dull clouds watch and frown,
Jealous of all the glory in the west;
The listless trees lean out along the shore
To watch their shadows lengthen down the tide;
And, far above us, slowly floating o’er,
The weary birds on homeward pinions glide.
The steamer, on the sand-bar fast asleep,
Tired with the week’s long labor, heavily lies;
Longer and longer still the shadows creep,
And evening mists from out the distance rise.
All things in peace and patience seem to wait,
As if in faith that, when the morning came,
The sun would once more light his golden gate
With all the glory of his entering flame.
7. Garden Dusk
by Grace Hazard Conkling
This stillness made of azure
And veiled with lavender
Must be my daylight garden
Where all the pigeons were!
Blue dusk upon my eyelids,
Your drifting moods disclose
The moth that is a flower,
The wings that are a rose.
Make haste, exhale your sweetness,
For you must vanish soon:
The garden will forget you
At rising of the moon.
A glory dawns predestined
Of old to banish you
And bind you fast with rainbows
In dungeons of the dew.
And who will then remember
Your cool and gossamer art?
Ah, never moon may exile
Your beauty from my heart!
8. Beautiful Evening
by Mary E. Nealey
I love the beautiful evening
When the sunset clouds are gold;
When the barn-fowls seek a shelter,
And the young lambs seek their fold:
When the four-o’clocks are open,
And the swallows homeward come;
When the horses cease their labors,
And the cows come home;
When the sunset and the twilight
In mingling hues are bent,
I can sit and watch the shadows
With my full heart all content;
And I wish for nothing- brighter,
And I long no more to roam
When the twilight’s peace comes o’er me,
And the cows come home.
Short Sunset Poems
Here you will find a collection of beautiful short poems for sunset that will help you appreciate this majestic event.
by John Charles McNeill
Hills wrapped in gray, standing along the west;
Clouds, dimly lighted, gathering slowly;
The star of peace at watch above the crest—
Oh, holy, holy, holy!
We know, O Lord, so little what is best;
Wingless, we move so lowly;
But in thy calm all-knowledge let us rest—
Oh, holy, holy, holy!
by Annette Wynne
The first glad breath of day is dear;
The sky is very soft and near;
The noon is glorious with light;
And afternoon is bright;
But I love twilight best, it seems,
When all the air is drenched with dreams,
And up against the sunset bar,
One small dream changes to a star.
by Emily Dickinson
A sloop of amber slips away
Upon an ether sea,
And wrecks in peace a purple tar,
The son of ecstasy.
4. March Sunset
by Hilda Conklings
Pines cut dark on a bronze sky . . .
A juniper tree laughing to the harp of the wind . . .
Last year’s oak leaves rustling . . .
And oh, the sky like a heart of fire
Burned down to those coals that have the color of fruit . . .
Cherries . . . light red grapes . . .
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I saw the day lean o’er the world’s sharp edge,
And peer into night’s chasm, dark and damp.
High in his hand he held a blazing lamp,
Then dropped it, and plunged headlong down the ledge.
With lurid splendor that swift paled to gray,
I saw the dim skies suddenly flush bright.
‘Twas but the expiring glory of the light
Flung from the hand of the adventurous day.
by Ruby Archer
To sunset water quivering in a blush
Appeals the glory of the sunset sky
Down gazing—an imploring conqueror—
With eyes that love to eyes awakening.
Long Sunset Poems
This category of long sunset poems is dedicated to the beauty of sunsets and the emotions they evoke in us.
1. Sunset in Autumn
by Madison Cawein
Blood-coloured oaks, that stand against a sky of gold and brass;
Gaunt slopes, on which the bleak leaves glow of brier and sassafras,
And broom-sedge strips of smoky-pink and pearl—gray clumps of grass
In which, beneath the ragged sky, the rain pools gleam like glass.
From West to East, from wood to wood, along the forest-side,
The winds,—the sowers of the Lord,—with thunderous footsteps stride;
Their stormy hands rain acorns down; and mad leaves, wildly dyed,
Like tatters of their rushing cloaks, stream round them far and wide.
The frail leaf-cricket in the weeds rings a faint fairy bell;
And like a torch of phantom ray the milkweed’s windy shell
Glimmers; while, wrapped in withered dreams, the wet autumnal smell
Of loam and leaf, like some sad ghost, steals over field and dell.
The oaks, against a copper sky—o’er which, like some black lake
Of Dis, bronze clouds, like surges fringed with sullen fire, break—
Loom sombre as Doom’s citadel above the vales that make
A pathway to a land of mist the moon’s pale feet shall take.
Now, dyed with burning carbuncle, a limbo-litten pane,
Within its walls of storm, the West opens to hill and plain,
On which the wild-geese ink themselves, a far triangled train,
And then the shuttering clouds close down—and night is here again.
2. A Walk at Sunset
by William Cullen Bryant
When insect wings are glistening in the beam
Of the low sun, and mountain-tops are bright,
Oh, let me, by the crystal valley-stream,
Wander amid the mild and mellow light;
And while the redbreast pipes his evening lay,
Give me one lonely hour to hymn the setting day.
Oh, sun! that o’er the western mountains now
Goest down in glory! ever beautiful
And blessed is thy radiance, whether thou
Colourest the eastern heaven and night-mist cool,
Till the bright day-star vanish, or on high
Climbest, and streamest thy white splendours from mid-sky.
Yet, loveliest are thy setting smiles, and fair,
Fairest of all that earth beholds, the hues
That live among the clouds, and flush the air,
Lingering and deepening at the hour of dews.
Then softest gales are breathed, and softest heard
The plaining voice of streams, and pensive note of bird.
They who here roamed, of yore, the forest wide,
Felt, by such charm, their simple bosoms won;
They deemed their quivered warrior, when he died,
Went to bright isles beneath the setting sun;
Where winds are aye at peace, and skies are fair,
And purple-skirted clouds curtain the crimson air.
So, with the glories of the dying day,
Its thousand trembling lights and changing hues,
The memory of the brave who passed away
Tenderly mingled;—fitting hour to muse
On such grave theme, and sweet the dream that shed
Brightness and beauty round the destiny of the dead.
For ages, on the silent forests here,
Thy beams did fall before the red man came
To dwell beneath them; in their shade the deer
Fed, and feared not the arrow’s deadly aim.
Nor tree was felled, in all that world of woods,
Save by the beaver’s tooth, or winds, or rush of floods.
Then came the hunter tribes, and thou didst look,
For ages, on their deeds in the hard chase,
And well-fought wars; green sod and silver brook
Took the first stain of blood; before thy face
The warrior generations came and passed,
And glory was laid up for many an age to last.
Now they are gone, gone as thy setting blaze
Goes down the west, while night is pressing on,
And, with them, the old tale of better days,
And trophies of remembered power, are gone.
Yon field that gives the harvest, where the plough
Strikes the white bone, is all that tells their story now.
I stand upon their ashes, in thy beam,
The offspring of another race, I stand,
Beside a stream they loved, this valley stream;
And where the night-fire of the quivered band
Showed the gray oak by fits, and war-song rung,
I teach the quiet shades the strains of this new tongue.
Farewell! but thou shalt come again—thy light
Must shine on other changes, and behold
The place of the thronged city still as night—
States fallen—new empires built upon the old—
But never shalt thou see these realms again
Darkened by boundless groves, and roamed by savage men.
3. Amid the Pines at Sunset
by Ada A. Mosher
Aisles leaf-carpeted, and columned
With the tall Corinthian pines,
Lifting to a dome of golden
Coronals of carving olden,
Wrought in wonderous designs.
Heaven’s cathedral windows flashing
Sunset splendors opaline,
Silent, gem-like offertories,
Tessellating with strange glories
Long dim aisles of bronzèd green.
Thro’ the cloistered sanctuary
Of this forest-temple stole
Whispers of a Voluntary
That spake strangely to my soul.
‘Mid pine pillars all aglisten
In the gold and amethyst,
Knelt I reverently to listen
To the aged organist—
To the Wind—that old musician,
With the centuries in his heart,
And sublimer sweep of vision
Thro’ wierd melodies Elysian
Than Beethoven or Mozart.
Neath his aged hands caressing
Trembled all the leafy keys,
As he breathed beyond our guessing
Something like a soul’s best blessing,
Or a soul itself confessing
In Aeolian harmonies.
How the low sweet numbers pealing
Forth in whispers silence-soft,
Thrilled me as I heard them stealing
All surcharged with tenderest feeling
From the pine-top organ-loft!
Grayer grew the gold; the dying
Day’s last smile was, trembling, caught
On the leaves, then, westward flying,
Left me in the gloaming, trying
To divine his master-thought.
Suddenly came shadows stealing
Like the forms of phantom nuns,
Long, grey veils of mist concealing
Their pale, prayerful faces, kneeling
At their Vesper orisons.
Grander, holier inspirations,
From the organ-tower dim,
Poured in tremulous vibrations;
Then I know that with the nation’s
Rose his benediction hymn.
Knew a thousand altars glistened
Thro’ a cloud of frankincense,
In the taper’s starlight christened,
While archangels hid and listened
From the rose’s redolence.
Silent, ghostly hands erected
A dream throne—ciborium,
Nature poured a praise perfected,
Each star flashing a reflected
4. Sunset and Twilight
by M. J. E. Crawford
The sun hath gone down in the crimsoned west,
The dove hath flown to her lonely nest,
And the golden light of departing day
Tinges the mountains far away,
Till their green sides glow with a brilliant flush,
Like a calm face lighting with love’s warm blush.
The sky is bright as the light that gleams
From the sparkling waves of sunlit streams,
And the rosy clouds are soft and light
As the dreams which visit our hearts by night
The soft west wind as it murmurs by
With its fragrant breath and dreamy sigh,
Makes music sweet as the pleasant tones
Which fall from the lips of loving ones —
Tones which leave in the inmost heart
Gentle echoes which never depart.
The eye which rests on a scene so bright
Never can tire of the gorgeous sight:
The soul is filled with a rapture pure,
That mortal senses can scarce endure;
The pulses throb, and the full heart longs
To frame its bliss into thrilling songs,
The glorious light to its depth to win,
And drink the spirit of beauty in;
Embody each delicate tint and glow,
And breathe it in music soft and low;
But its powers are bound in too bright a chain —
Lips can not utter that spirit-strain.
The bright hues fade, and a purple mist
Creeps o’er the hills which the sunbeams kissed;
The thin clouds melt from their mellow hue.
And lose themselves in the deep, dark blue;
While shadows steal o’er the quiet scene,
Like fairy forms from the woodland green.
The day-blooms softly are folding up
The glowing leaves of each tiny cup,
Quietly closing each drowsy eye,
Till light returns to the eastern sky;
While dew-drops gather like gems of light,
In hearts of blossoms which scent the night.
The stars come out in the arch above,
Pure lamps lit up by the hand of love;
And earthward spreading their shining wings,
As if to vie with those radiant things;
The fireflies glitter and gleam and glance.
And seem to move in a mystic dance;
The sound of streams and the scent of flowers
Seem sweeter now than at other hours,
And the soul grows calm in the twilight air,
And bows itself in unspoken prayer.
5. November Twilight
by Bliss Carman
Now Winter at the end of day
Along the ridges takes her way,
Upon her twilight round to light
The faithful candles of the night.
As quiet as the nun she goes
With silver lamp in hand, to close
The silent doors of dusk that keep
The hours of memory and sleep.
She pauses to tread out the fires
Where Autumn’s festal train retires.
The last red embers smoulder down
Behind the steeples of the town.
Austere and fine the trees stand bare
And moveless in the frosty air,
Against the pure and paling light
Before the threshold of the night.
On purple valley and dim wood
The timeless hush of solitude
Is laid, as if the time for some
Transcending mystery were come,
That shall illumine and console
The penitent and eager soul,
Setting her free to stand before
Supernal beauty and adore.
Dear Heart, in heaven’s high portico
It is the hour of prayer. And lo,
Above the earth, serene and still,
One star —our star —o’er Lonetree Hill!
6. Sunset on the Blackhawk
by Elsie E. Egermeier
Day is dying on the Blackhawk;
Slowly sinks the orb of light;
Dark’ning shadows from the eastward
Mark the sure approach of night.
Yes, the day is dying, dying;
Songbirds soon will tuck their heads
‘Neath their wings, while woodland rovers
Will be seeking their rude beds.
Evening zephyrs idly wander
Through each quiet, shady dell,
Rustling every drooping leaflet,
Some familiar tale to tell.
On the calm and peaceful surface
Of the Blackhawk’s winding stream,
Here and there are dim reflections
Of an old, forgotten dream.
In the rippling of its waters
We can hear a murmur low,
And, perchance, we catch faint echoes
Rising from the long ago.
Lingering near we wait to listen –
Summer’s twilight slowly dies,
While the ever murmuring- waters
Speak they of our red-faced brothers,
Men whose race of life was run
Ere we drove their kindred westward,
Farther toward the setting- sun.
“Long ago the daylight faded
On this peaceful little stream;
Long ago they watched the starlight
On its silvery waters gleam;
“Long ago they roved the woodlands
Bordering on the Blackhawk’s brink,
Drew the fish from out its waters,
Saw within dark shadows sink.
“Heard they then the gushing, gurgling
Sound from where the streamlets flow;
At the river’s head they gathered
In the sweet old long ago.
“Up and down the land they wandered
To the north, south, east, and west;
But they loved to light their campfires
By the dear old Blackhawk best.”
Swiftly glides Time’s river onward,
Never backward does it flow;
Daylight faded on the Blackhawk
For the redmen long ago.
7. Love’s Sunset
by David V. Bush
We stood together long ago,
And watched the fading west;
With heart aglow I whispered soft:
”Tis you that I love best.”
No answered word those dear lips gave,
Too full of love to speak;
Though brighter than the sunset gleamed
Your fair and rosy cheek.
No time in all my life so sweet.
So full of warmth and light,
As when on our betrothal hour
The sunset smiled good night.
And ever since that wondrous eve
Has life been doubly dear;
Each sunset hour that comes and goes
Still draws our hearts more near.
Whene’er the sun’s expiring beams
Bring glory to the west,
My thoughts are borne on wings of flame
To her whom I love best.
Each sunset hour my spirit turns
To that blest moment when
You sweetly promised to be mine,
In that remembered glen.
How many times our hearts have burned
With love forever true,
While such experiences we shared
As sunset never knew.
We stood beside a casket small,
To mourn life’s faded flower,
And kissed our little one farewell,
At sunset’s solemn hour.
Sunset Poems That Rhyme
Here you will find rhyming poems that glorify the breathtaking colors of the sky. Enjoy a selection of magical sunset rhymes!
1. Sunset in the Golden Gate
by W. E. Hutchinson
When day is done there falls a solemn hush:
The birds are silent in their humble nest.
Then comes the Master Artist with his brush,
And paints with brilliant touch the golden west.
The blended colors sweep across the sky,
And add a halo at the close of day.
Their roseate hues far-reaching banners fly,
And gild the restless waters of the bay.
Mount Tamalpais stands in purple ‘tire
Against the background, Phoenixlike, ornate:
Apollo drives his chariot of fire
Between the portals of the Golden Gate.
No other hand than His who rules on high,
Could wield the brush and spread such bright array
Upon the outstretched canvas of the sky,
Then draw the curtain of departing day.
2. The Close of Day
by Esther Crone
At eve the mountains seem to devour each dying day,
As they stand between the earth and heaven’s way.
They feast on subeams, drink the rain and dew for wine,
Their Host is God, the Infinite with whom they dine.
And he who sweeps his eye across the broad expanse of skies
May see the finger prints of God in wonderous size;
Yea, too, may see that God himself is there
To hold and guide the worlds that swing in air.
No language need be heard to tell his mighty power,
“The heavens declare his glory” in this closing hour.
3. How Beautiful the Setting Sun
How beautiful the setting sun!
The clouds, how bright and gay!
The stars, appearing one by one,
How beautiful are they!
And when the moon climbs up the sky,
And sheds her gentle light,
And hangs her crystal lamp on high,
How beautiful is night!
And can it be, that I’m possessed
Of something brighter far?
Glows there a light within this breast,
Out-shining every star?
Yes, should the sun and stars turn pale,
The mountains melt away,
This flame within shall never fail,
But live in endless day.
The sunset’s crown of radiant gold
And robe of amethyst
Had paled to twilight gray and cold
And trembling veils of mist;
Then, up in the heaven the white moon sailed,
And, gleaming in her wake,
Her silvery shimmering garments trailed –
A shining way, in shadows veiled,
Across the dusky lake.
The darkness quenched the sunset hues;
Day, shrouded, sank in night;
Yet through the gloom and through the dews
Still trailed that track of light.
No wind bore upward hymn or prayer,
No step throbbed on the sod,
And yet my soul saw opened there –
Cross lake, o’er mount, through ambient air –
A shining path to God.
O coward soul, that fears to miss
The glow from out thy sky,
That shrinks from sorrow’s touch and kiss
When shades are drawing nigh, –
Beyond the night’s o’ershadowing form
Light gleams on wave and sod,
And thou mayst climb – thy robe and crown
Faded and in the dust laid down –
That shining way to God.
by J. R. Eastwood
In grass-grown, sheltered ways and green,
Where gleams of glory glance between
The rustling leaves that shroud the lane,
I walk and talk with Lil again.
I hold my love by both her hands:
The sun that lights a thousand lands,
Will rise for me, will rise again,
Will search for Lil and search in vain.
The dying day will linger still,
With silver stars, for love of Lil:
The breeze will murmur and complain
Thro’ all the dark, deserted lane.
And looks of love in lifted eyes,
As now, to-night, will then arise,
With happy thoughts, with thoughts of pain,
With Lil no longer in the lane.
6. Where Did It Go?
by W. C. Gannett
Where did yesterday’s sunset go
When it faded down the hills so slow —
And the gold grew dim and the purple light
Like an army with banners passed from sight?
Will its flush go into the golden rod
Its thrill to the purple aster’s nod
Its crimson fleck the maple-bough
And the autumn-glory begin from now?
Deeper than flower fields sank the glow
Of the silent pageant passing slow.
It flushed all night in many a dream
It thrilled in the folding hush of prayer
It glided into a poet’s song
It is setting still in a picture rare;
It changed by the miracle none can see
To the shifting lights of a symphony;
And in resurrection of faith and hope
And glory died on the shining slope.
For it left its light on the hills and seas
That run a thousand memories.
Sunset Poems about Life
Sunsets are often used as a metaphor for the end of a chapter in life. This collection of the poem about sunset and life will evoke reflection and introspection.
1. Let Go
A glowing sunset
My summer dreams,
reached the point of parting tears
With silent song from heart
A sigh, let go of all the feeling
In the breeze:
A goodbye … and one hello
Autumn is coming quietly
A sense of melancholy
The light is different
and the air sharper
Heaven clear light blue like an Aquamarine
The goddess of love
A starry sky full of divine power
Life is so valuable …
must each day be blessed
2. My Lasting Memory of You
by Harry Horsman
Humble this moment under skies of grey
Reading poems of furtive words wrote with you,
Contemplating where you are now this day
With an ascetic mind of times we knew.
The love we shared on a day once like this
A time so long ago the spring of youth,
My heart heaved in heavenly days of bliss
Speaking words of unmitigated truth.
Yet you went away far over the sea
With nonchalant parents on life’s voyage,
Waving with a kiss as you left the quay
Shallow sunset that swallowed the cordage.
I was only eight and you barely nine
Wondering if ever your thoughts as mine.
3. The Color of My Heart
by Emile Pinet
Sketch the sunset leaving today behind
sinking in the footsteps of yesterday.
And feel the ripple of all life combined
empty your thoughts, take all but love away.
Emblazon upon your mind, blue of sky
gilded by the golden hue of sunrise.
And capture a shooting star zipping by
watching its beauty materialize.
Blend the yellow of a buttercup’s glow
with the flickering flash of firefly lights.
And walk the Earth, yet let no footprint show
respecting life by honoring its rights.
Mix well, until presumptions fall apart
and thus reveal the color of my heart.
4. Contents of A Heart
by Deb M
What is inside a human heart
Is it sunshine warm and bright
Maybe fluffy soft white clouds
Or a full moon on a dark still night
Is there precious perfumed flowers
Or peaceful gentle rain
The glistening on a calm ocean
Or the joy of a sunrise and sunset again
Is it abundant with laughter
Brimming with memories and treasures
Or simply overflowing with love
At the awe of life’s pleasures
5. Sunset of Life – A Poem
The sun is setting on my life in the beautiful colors
that only memory and wisdom can paint.
I’ve lived, I’ve loved, and I’ve laughed,
while I moved forward living for the living
I’ve been a team and I’ve been alone
I’ve been a king and I’ve been a peasant
I have drank from the goblet of life
till my soul ached of her flavor.
So many experiences not a single regret.
I’ve made mistakes but learned from all,
here in the dusk of my life I am content.
My children have children of their own.
I try to pass my essence forward
Live life!! Don’t let life live you!
It is so easy to get trapped in society.
It is easier to gain forgiveness than permission.
Leave consequence behind. Experience life!
You will hurt sometimes. That is living.
You will want to settle. That is life.
Be stronger than both! Pain and suffering
will want to hold you in their grasp. Endure.
There is so much to be. Open yourself. Flow.
Be the best you that you can be. Damn consequences.
Let them come after the living and pay accordingly.
Your fate in this life is yours to command.
Be bold and do the things you feel as right.
Play, pay, and be happy while you’re alive.
That is the true meaning of life.
I am not cursed with an end in this world
as I watch my grandchildren in their sunrise.
I am blessed that I was here to enjoy.
Life is what we make it. I made mine fruitful.
I would not change one single experience.
Here, near the end, I am proud and smiling.
6. Lonely Long Life
by Fatima Bhopali
Dark dull dawn
Sunset sad silhouette
After you’re gone
Pricking pain persists
Grief getting gross
You, still in dreams exist
Lonely long life
Sinking Spirit Subsists
Where, respite lies
Sunset Poems about Death
Sunsets are often associated with the end of a day and, sometimes, the end of a life. These sunset poems explore the theme of death and its inevitable link to the natural cycle of life.
by Christopher Grieves
We held hands for a while
There were no goodbyes
But I linger on thoughts
Of your twinkling eyes
Many a sky
And many a vista
Have been placed onto canvas
By the Earth’s loving sister
For kids who you never would meet
The twiddle-mitt queen
Your compassion complete
Trusting nature was always
Your truth and your way
Scotland’s highlands the place..
Guess you’ll be there today
So as sunset arrives
The most beautiful sky
Is a prelude to memories
Of the day that’s flown by
There’s a blindfold
To night that is rarely unveiled
Like a mystery cruise
On a ship that has sailed
As the sun dips behind
The still water of years
All the hugs and the smiles
Through the laughter and tears
Will linger in hearts
That are full as can be
For we’ll miss you. Goodbye.
But we’re glad you’re now free.
2. Crossing the Bar
by Alfred Tennyson
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.
3. The Perfect Kiss
by Gerald Legister
It is the perfect handedness of endless bliss
the cadence, embrace the double-mirroring kiss,
silence is the most notorious happiness parenthesis.
Even when the dual night vigil blew
All the stretched-out empty days reminded you
Of promises and tragedy that passion drew.
In the perfect kiss, we once knew.
But time has rendered a big part of this
their brilliance and space are in abruptness.
Death neither waits for happiness nor success.
Our separation passed on in the brief moments mist
Into the sad, fleeting, strange distance eclipse.
another starnge bliss paused here to gaze at this
less lonely existence parenthesis.
4. Sometimes I Bring You Back
by Sarah Spang
Sometimes beneath close eyelids
I quest to bring you back
As if you were driftwood floating
Downstream on your back.
I dip my hands beneath the veil
And dry away the death
And from my parting, weeping lips
I give you back your breath —
Just like the rising sunset burning
In the summer sky
Paints and saints the mountaintops
And casts their colors bright.
5. No Shadows After Sunset
by Arinima Gupta
Long human silhouettes at eventide.
Dry lips, coruscating eyes, hungry souls, a lakefront view.
Water shimmering in the diffracted coral beam; upcoming moonlight.
Pair of warm and cold hands.
Cool evening breeze against golden and olive skin.
Fleeting instants after 6 p.m.;
Perfect moments don’t last long,
Seconds of solace,
Concealed is the day by azure-colored ripples.
Will they lose themselves too?
Like the lost shadows after sunset.
Immersing in their soul and the night.
The irony of being moonstruck at dusk.
Peace or grief?
A nostalgic dilemma;
Is this what it means to be human?
Being haunted by your sweetest day memory at night.
6. As The Sun Sets
by Marissa Faries
Someday we will all meet again
After each of our sunsets.
Surely when the time comes by then
There will be no more regrets.
For only in the realms of Heaven
We will have no more frets.
Ways we lived our lives had to happen,
So no one ever truly forgets.
So rest assured we shall meet again
After the last of all of our sunsets.
Sad Sunset Poems
These sad sunset poems reflect on the fleeting nature of life and the pain of letting go. Feelings of sadness and melancholy can be stirred up by them as well.
1. Sad Sunset
by Edwina Reizer
When I see a sunset, I picture it with you
watching that big old sun
disappear from view.
And when the dark of night descends
it’s all that I can do
to keep my hopes up high
is hope you are looking at the sky
and picturing me there too.
For all these things beautiful to see
don’t mean anything to me.
For the beauty of a nighttime sky
with all the stars shining bright
can’t make me happy unless I can be
seeing it along with you
right there in my sight.
So when that sun starts to settle down
my mind plays games with me.
I can’t quite compete with this mind of mine.
It’s like the banker in monopoly.
It tells me and sells me things I don’t need
like a game of do or die.
And the only way to win this game I’m in
is to never look at the sky.
2. Clenched Soul
by Pablo Neruda
We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.
I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.
Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.
I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.
Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?
The book fell that always closed at twilight
and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.
Always, always you recede through the evenings
toward the twilight erasing statues.
3. Ashes of Roses
Soft on the sunset sky
Bright daylight closes,
Leaving, when light doth die,
Pale hues that mingling lie—
Ashes of roses.
When love’s warm sun is set,
Love’s brightness closes;
Eyes with hot tears are wet,
In hearts there linger yet
Ashes of roses.
4. After the Sunset
by Yolanda Wessels
For many sunsets I missed you when I was lonely & sad
For just as many sunrises I missed you when I was happy & glee
But it was a harsh reality that you are missing from me and that is just too bad
It was time for a new beginning, to be free
For many moons, my thoughts returned to you
Maybe it was silly to miss what we could never really have
Saudade or afeto, it mostly made me blue
Whatever, it was time to be brave
I was broken, lost, without any place to be
I chose hope, and believed everything was possible
I prayed to God to show me the right way so I could see
I accepted my faults and know I was responsible
Being strong was my only option
But I had to duck and dive and empower mind over matter
I took control of my situation
With patience and time, things got better
Loneliness sometimes visited still
Especially when my thoughts returned to you
Life was after all no fairytale and sometimes still uphill
What was up with you, I had absolutely no clue
I paid my dues, learned my lesson, love and lost
I grew, I had no idea how strong I could be
Drowned in writing, I did what I do best
And with lots of practise became a better version of me
Heaven is where you chose it to be
Every day can be a new beginning
Live and let live, that is the key
Leave the past, its not over till the final inning
One day it may make sense why it wasnt ‘us for good’ to be.
5. The Painful Sunset
by Crystal Wolf Tear
Deep red and orange
A glint of yellow
But not so bright
Slowly fading slowly
painfully dying away
Getting slowly ready
To end the brutal day
The glistening moon gets ready
To start the lonely night
Giving only a weak dim light
Painted with a glint of red
The blue sky darkens
The poisoned words you said
Keep my heart broken
The sun is dying, fading
Your blue eyes have met
The delicate beauty of
A dying sunset…..
6. Sad Sunset for Me
by Saba Mughal
Sunset always makes my heart sad
Every sunset reduces a day in my life
I want to stop the sunset sinking into the sea
But I’m not touching the sunset
Sunset always drowned leaving the sadness shine in my eyes
sunset always makes me lonely
But it is the law of god
When the sun rise
So then sunset also happens.
Sunset Poems by Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson’s poetry often explores themes of nature and the beauty of the natural world. Here are some of her best sunset poems.
1. The Coming of Night
by Emily Dickinson
How the old mountains drip with sunset,
And the brake of dun!
How the hemlocks are tipped in tinsel
By the wizard sun!
How the old steeples hand the scarlet,
Till the ball is full, —
Have I the lip of the flamingo
That I dare to tell?
Then, how the fire ebbs like billows,
Touching all the grass
With a departing, sapphire feature,
As if a duchess pass!
How a small dusk crawls on the village
Till the houses blot;
And the odd flambeaux no men carry
Glimmer on the spot!
Now it is night in nest and kennel,
And where was the wood,
Just a dome of abyss is nodding
Into solitude! —
These are the visions baffled Guido;
Titian never told;
Domenichino dropped the pencil,
Powerless to unfold.
2. The Juggler of Day
by Emily Dickinson
Blazing in gold and quenching in purple,
Leaping like leopards to the sky,
Then at the feet of the old horizon
Laying her spotted face, to die;
Stooping as low as the otter’s window,
Touching the roof and tinting the barn,
Kissing her bonnet to the meadow, —
And the juggler of day is gone!
3. The Sea of Sunset
by Emily Dickinson
This is the land the sunset washes,
These are the banks of the Yellow Sea;
Where it rose, or whither it rushes,
These are the western mystery!
Night after night her purple traffic
Strews the landing with opal bales;
Merchantmen poise upon horizons,
Dip, and vanish with fairy sails.
by Emily Dickinson
The sun kept setting, setting still;
No hue of afternoon
Upon the village I perceived, —
From house to house ‘t was noon.
The dusk kept dropping, dropping still;
No dew upon the grass,
But only on my forehead stopped,
And wandered in my face.
My feet kept drowsing, drowsing still,
My fingers were awake;
Yet why so little sound myself
Unto my seeming make?
How well I knew the light before!
I could not see it now.
‘T is dying, I am doing; but
I’m not afraid to know.
5. A Day
by Emily Dickinson
I’ll tell you how the sun rose, —
A ribbon at a time.
The steeples swam in amethyst,
The news like squirrels ran.
The hills untied their bonnets,
The bobolinks begun.
Then I said softly to myself,
“That must have been the sun!”
But how he set, I know not.
There seemed a purple stile
Which little yellow boys and girls
Were climbing all the while
Till when they reached the other side,
A dominie in gray
Put gently up the evening bars,
And led the flock away.
by Emily Dickinson
Where ships of purple gently toss
On seas of daffodil,
Fantastic sailors mingle,
And then — the wharf is still.
In short, the sunset is a source of inspiration for poets to capture the beauty, serenity, and emotions of this natural phenomenon.
The poems about sunset that we have explored here have touched our hearts and reminded us of the beauty that exists in the world.
These sunset poems take us on a journey of imagination and reflection, encouraging us to appreciate the small moments in life that can bring us joy and peace.
Have you been inspired by a beautiful sunset? We would love to hear from you! Please leave a comment below and share your thoughts and experiences.
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