How dear to me the hour when daylight dies, <br />And sunbeams melt along the silent sea, <br />For then sweet dreams of other days arise, <br />And memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee. <br /> <br />And, as I watch the line of light, that plays <br />Along the smooth wave toward the burning west, <br />I long to tread that golden path of rays, <br />And think 'twould lead to some bright isle of rest.<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/how-dear-to-me-the-hour-3/
