I'll tell you how the sun rose, — A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran.
The hills untied their bonnets, The bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, "That must have been the sun!"
* * *
But how he set, I know not. There seemed a purple stile Which little yellow boys and girls Were climbing all the while
Till when they reached the other side, A dominie in gray Put gently up the evening bars, And led the flock away.