COME to the sunset tree! The day is past and gone; The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done. The twilight star to heaven, And the summer dew to flowers, And rest to us is given By the cool soft evening hours. Sweet is the hour of rest! Pleasant the wind's low sigh, And the gleaming of the west, And the turf whereon we lie. When the burden and the heat Of labor's task are o'er, And kindly voices greet The tired one at his door, Come to the sunset tree! The day is past and gone; The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done. Yes; tuneful is the sound That dwells in whispering boughs, Welcome the freshness round, And the gale that fans our brows. But rest more sweet and still Than ever nightfall gave, Our longing hearts shall fill In the world beyond the grave. There shall no tempest blow, No scorching noontide heat; There shall be no more snow, No weary wandering feet. And we lift our trusting eyes, From the hills our fathers trod, To the quiet of the skies, To the Sabbath of our God. Come to the sunset tree! The day is past and gone; The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FEARS IN SOLITUDE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THOREAU'S FLUTE by LOUISA MAY ALCOTT THE WEST WIND by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT OF ONE AFFLICTED WITH DEAFNESS by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE ENVIOUS WREN by PHOEBE CARY TU-WHIT, TU-WHOO by HENRY CHAPPELL LINES FROM A NOTEBOOK - JANUARY 1808 by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |