A song of the setting sun! br The sky in the west is red, br And the day is all but done; br While yonder up overhead, br All too soon, br There rises so cold the cynic moon. br br A Song of a Winter day! br The wind of the north doth blow, br From a sky that's chill and gray, br On fields where no crops now grow, br Fields long shorn br Of bearded barley and golden corn. br br A song of a faded flower! br 'Twas plucked in the tender bud, br And fair and fresh for an hour, br In a Lady's hair it stood, br Now, ah! now, br Faded it lies in the dust and low.