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Updated: June 3, 2025
Our mountains are so huge and tragical; and even their silences are not always gentle. And our plains are dry and gray. And yet I love the valley of the Santa Fé, and the old Ortiz and Sandia peaks, and the red sunset's stain on the Sangre-de-Christo. Many a time I have lifted up my eyes to them for help, as the shepherd did to his Judean hills when he sang his psalms of hope and victory."
"So old and well remembered; yet so new and strangely beautiful," whispered the woman, as she let her gaze travel over the broken, far-stretching skyline of the forest-clad mountain side, now fading into the sky, where a memory of the sunset's afterglow still lingered, as though loath to depart and leave the world to darkness. "Like love: as old as the hills, yet ever new," answered the other.
A beauteous boy, Couched listless by the rivulet's glassy tide, 'Mid nature's tranquil scene, He views the lambs that skip with innocent joy, And crop the meadow's flowering pride: Then with his flute's enchanting sound, He wakes the mountain echoes round, Or slumbers in the sunset's ruddy sheen, Lulled by the murmuring melody.
o'er no sweeter lake Shall morning break or noon-cloud sail; No fairer face than thine shall take The sunset's golden veil. "Cooper had no predecessor and no successor in his own field of fiction; he stood alone, he was a creator, and his 'Natty' will stand forever as the most original of pioneer characters," wrote Henry M. Alden. With Rev. Mr.
Quietly then did tints hitherto red extinguish their tremulous glow softly there flared up, dusted purple in the sunset's sheen, the peak of Kara Dagh.
"O'er no sweeter lake shall morning break, Or noon cloud sail; No fairer face than this shall take The sunset's golden veil." In due time we again reached Piedra Blanca, and, notwithstanding our ragged, thorn-torn garments, felt we were once more joined on to the world.
The crown of the year for the Japanese had indeed arrived, the season when every cherry tree becomes a magnificent nosegay which has caught the sunset's glow, and all the world goes forth to view the splendid sight. The love of these people, young and old and of all classes, for flowers, and particularly for cherry blossoms, is touching in its simplicity and sincerity.
It was not that there was any particular message that I had to give. But there was aroused in me just this simple, insistent longing to let others know what glory there was in the world, and to be able to communicate to them something of the joy I was then feeling in beholding it. I was highly privileged in having this opportunity of witnessing a Tibetan sunset's splendours.
I cannot divine what it meaneth, This haunting nameless pain: A tale of the bygone ages Keeps brooding through my brain: The faint air cools in the glooming, And peaceful flows the Rhine, The thirsty summits are drinking The sunset's flooding wine; The loveliest maiden is sitting High-throned in yon blue air, Her golden jewels are shining, She combs her golden hair;
From sheer exhaustion Lounsbury had stopped his complaints. The first grayness of twilight had come, like mist, over the distant hills; but the peaks were still bathed in the sunset's glow. She began to have a real and overwhelming longing for camp and rest. And in the midst of her dejection the dark man in front threw her a smile. "It goes hard at first," he told her gently.
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