Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 162: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE SUNSET HOUR. 153 “Wait! Don’t let them go, Jack! There—there’s your money—he loaned it to me—take it!” and Teddy flung a roll of bills blindly before him, dropped the trousers and tottered into Jack Burke’s arms, laughing and crying in violent hysterics. Jack Burke carried the young fellow to the sofa and talked to himsoothingly, holding his hands and gently stroking his forehead. 7 Gradually Teddy became calmer and calmer, and when Jack Burke looked around towards the door, Bert and Dolph were gone, and the bank notes which they were in need of so badly still lay on the floor where Teddy had flung them. THE SUNSET HOUR. THE western hills are fading now; The golden tinted clouds are gone; The rising river’s ripples flow More faintly in my fancy on; The sweet repose, so still, so calm, Which sunset’s softening shades impart, Might soothe, methinks, like Gilead’s balm, The weary or the wounded heart! The flower’s scent; the forest’s force, Sweet silence of soft stars still share, Since Sorrow’s shadow, its sad source, Secretes with solemn, sober air! Now its fierce fires spread o’er faint soul; No drop of dew dispels the heat; Sad earth seems shriveled like a scroll, Nor lonely lakes lave lowly feet. Where waves are wild, where shores are steep, 7 And princely pines peer down in pride; Where waters cheerless, dark and deep, In gloomy groans grate on life’s tide; Where reeds and rushes, red and rank, Skirt shining strand of shell strewn shore, Or foamy seas sweep o’er steep bank, I hear the sullen, surging roar! The sunset hour is sweeter far Than grandest glare of glowing noon; I love to watch the first faint star, And gaze upon the sailing moon; Then thought flies high, and memory Sleeps in the quiet of the scene, Till in the future far I see A desert isle forever green! ‘Tis fancy all! Earth hath no rest! Life’s busy throngs, with bustling air, Press on, while hidden in each breast Are eager hope and earnest care; Till, tossed by turbulent desires, And dashed by disappointments past, Spent by strong passion’s seething fires, Life’s sunset hour is seen at last! Lalita iT. Ree. eo