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Normale Version: Raleigh
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Raleigh

"Nay, not unto the sunset," rang the cry
Of her who loved thee all her careworn days,
Yet still toward the sunset was thy gaze,
Ever into the sunset wouldst thou hie:
And when the tropic wonder held thine eye
With gorgeous birds and jewels all ablaze,
Thy full heart dreamt of England and her praise
In all the lands beneath the sunset sky.

Again thy master loosed thee from thy cell
Into the sunset and thy golden West
For lust of treasure and for spoil of Spain,
And when thy tongue no flattering tale could tell,
Death the Discoverer sped thee on thy quest
Dauntless, into the sunset once again.