I'll tell you how the sun rose,-
a ribbon at a time.
The steeples swam with 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.