SINKS the swift sun; yet sinks but to arise
In other regions far beyond our sight:
We follow him with dim and dazzled eyes,
Till every ray is quenched in silent night.
We miss him, but he comes not; he has gone
To show his glory in more cloudless air:
Nothing is lost to him, for in that zone
He puts on raiment more serenely fair.
So sinks the child of heaven, when to our eye
He disappears; he does not die, but live.
He has passed out beyond this narrower sky,
Diviner splendour to receive and give.
He sinks to rise; he sets to shine again
In fairer heavens, and with diviner light;
No more to set, or take on cloudy stain,
Or leave behind another world of night.
O cloudless heaven, in which we hope to shine,
When we shall leave behind us this dim sphere!
O glorious world, all holy and divine,
Where we shall sparkle through the eternal year!