The Campfire of the Sun, Bliss Carman, 1931 Lo, now, the journeying sun, Another day's march done, Kindles his campfire at the edge of night ! And in the twilight pale Above his crimson trail, The stars move out their cordons still and bright. Now in the darkening hush A solitary thrush Sings on in silvery rapture to the deep ; While brooding on her nest, The wandering soul has rest, And earth receives her sacred gift of sleep.