| SUNSET |
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| The sun is setting in the west, |
| An artist's pigments stain the sky, |
| Their gentle colors give us rest: |
| I cannot, will not tell you why. |
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| An artist's pigments stain the sky, |
| Brightly blooming flowers of night; |
| I cannot, will not tell you why, |
| Their colors give us such delight. |
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| Brightly blooming flowers of night; |
| Growing in an artist's dream, |
| Their colors give us such delight, |
| These flowers are not what they seem. |
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| Growing in an artist's dream, |
| In some lovely skyward garden, |
| These flowers are not what they seem, |
| They who never beg our pardon. |
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| In some lovely skyward garden, |
| They dance, and dream, and laugh and bloom, |
| They who never beg our pardon, |
| And fill with scent our secret rooms. |
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| They dance, and dream, and laugh and bloom, |
| Their gentle colors bring us rest: |
| And fill with scent our secret rooms. |
| The sun is setting in the west. |
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