Bring me the sunset in a cup, 
Reckon the morning's flagons up 
And say how many Dew, 
Tell me how far the morning leaps— 
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps 
Who spun the breadth of blue! 

Write me how many notes there be 
In the new Robin's ecstasy 
Among astonished boughs— 
How many trips the Tortoise makes— 
How many cups the Bee partakes, 
The Debauchee of Dews! 

Also, who laid the Rainbow's piers, 
Also, who leads the docile spheres 
By withes of supple blue? 
Whose fingers string the stalactite— 
Who counts the wampum of the night 
To see that none is due? 

Who built this little Alban House 
And shut the windows down so close 
My spirit cannot see? 
Who'll let me out some gala day 
With implements to fly away, 
Passing Pomposity?                                     Emily Dickinson 


Standing on the Victorian iron bridge over the railway line at Woodbridge, you can see the estuary at dusk trailing away to the east and lit beautifully by the sunset in the west