There’s something magical about a sunset that captivates the soul.
Imagine immersing yourself in poems that not only describe these breathtaking moments but also evoke deep emotions and timeless reflections on beauty and transience.
Here are 10 engrossing poems about sunsets that will paint the sky with emotion and inspire you to appreciate the fleeting moments in life.
Let’s jump right in!
My favorite poem about sunsets
#1 “Sunset” by John Hartley
Last eve the sun went down
Like a globe of glorious fire;
Into a sea of gold
I watched the orb expire.
It seemed the fitting end
For the brightness it had shed,
And the cloudlets he had kissed
Long lingered over head.
All vegetation drooped,
As if with pleasure faint:
The lily closed its cup
To guard ‘gainst storm and taint.
The cool refreshing dew
Fell softly to the earth,
All lovely things to cheer,
And call more beauties forth.
And as I sat and thought
On Nature’s wond’rous plan,
I felt with some regret,
How small a thing is man.
However bright he be,
His efforts are confined,
Yet maybe, if he will,
Leave some rich fruits behind.
The sun that kissed the flowers,
And made the earth look gay,
Was culling, through the hours,
Rich treasures on his way.
And when the day was dead,
His stored up riches fell,
And to the moon arose
Incense from hill and dell.
And when our span of life
Is ended, will it be
Through such a glorious death
We greet Eternity?
What have we said or done
In all the long years passed!
And may not such as me,
Forgotten, die at last?
This poem beautifully captures the stunning imagery of a sunset and reflects on its deeper significance in our lives.
I am drawn to the way the poet connects the beauty of nature with human existence, pondering our place within it.
The vivid descriptions evoke a sense of peace and contemplation, inviting readers to appreciate the fleeting moments of beauty.
9 more poems about sunsets
#2 “Sunset” by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Where ships of purple gently toss
On seas of daffodil,
Fantastic sailors mingle,
And then — the wharf is still.
#3 “Sunset Clouds” by Madison Julius Cawein
Low clouds, the lightning veins and cleaves,
Torn from the forest of the storm,
Sweep westward like enormous leaves
O’er field and farm.
And in the west, on burning skies,
Their wrath is quenched, their hate is hushed,
And deep their drifted thunder lies
With splendor flushed.
The black turns gray, the gray turns gold;
And, seaed in deeps of radiant rose,
Summits of fire, manifold
They now repose.
What dreams they bring! what thoughts reveal!
That have their source in loveliness,
Through which the doubts I often feel
Grow less and less.
Through which I see that other night,
That cloud called Death, transformed of Love
To flame, and pointing with its light
To life above.
#4 “The Sun Has Set” by Emily Bronte
The sun has set, and the long grass now
Waves dreamily in the evening wind;
And the wild bird has flown from that old gray stone
In some warm nook a couch to find.
In all the lonely landscape round
I see no light and hear no sound,
Except the wind that far away
Come sighing o’er the healthy sea.
#5 “Sunset” by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
A sloop of amber slips away
Upon an ether sea,
And wrecks in peace a purple tar,
The son of ecstasy.
#6 “Sunset” by Paul Laurence Dunbar
The river sleeps beneath the sky,
And clasps the shadows to its breast;
The crescent moon shines dim on high;
And in the lately radiant west
The gold is fading into gray.
Now stills the lark his festive lay,
And mourns with me the dying day.
While in the south the first faint star
Lifts to the night its silver face,
And twinkles to the moon afar
Across the heaven’s graying space,
Low murmurs reach me from the town,
As Day puts on her sombre crown,
And shakes her mantle darkly down.
#7 “Sunset” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I saw the day lean o’er the world’s sharp edge
And peer into night’s chasm, dark and damp;
High in his hand he held a blazing lamp,
Then dropped it and plunged headlong down the ledge.
With lurid splendor that swift paled to gray,
I saw the dim skies suddenly flush bright.
‘Twas but the expiring glory of the light
Flung from the hand of the adventurous day.
#8 “Sunset” by Pamela S. Vining, (J. C. Yule)
The glorious sun, behind the western hills,
Slowly, in gorgeous majesty, retires,
Flooding the founts and forests, fields and rills,
With the reflection of his golden fires.
How beauteous all, how calm, how still!
Yon star that trembles on the hill,
Yon crescent moon that raises high
Her beamy horns upon the sky,
Seem bending down a loving glance
From the unclouded skies,
On the green Earth that far away
In solemn beauty lies; –
And, like sweet Friendship in affliction’s hour,
Grow brighter still the more the shadows lower.
#9 “Sunset” by Clark Ashton Smith
As blood from some enormous hurt
The sanguine sunset leapt;
Across it, like a dabbled skirt,
The hurrying tempest swept.
#10 “Sunset And Storm” by Madison Julius Cawein
Deep with divine tautology,
The sunset’s mighty mystery
Again has traced the scroll-like west
With hieroglyphs of burning gold:
Forever new, forever old,
Its miracle is manifest.
Time lays the scroll away. And now
Above the hills a giant brow
Of cloud Night lifts; and from his arm,
Barbaric black, upon the world,
With thunder, wind and fire, is hurled
His awful argument of storm.
What part, O man, is yours in such?
Whose awe and wonder are in touch
With Nature, – speaking rapture to
Your soul, – yet leaving in your reach
No human word of thought or speech
Commensurate with the thing you view.