Algy Flies into the Western Waves of Ebbing Day

Suddenly, after a long, grey day of dense Scotch mist:

           The western waves of ebbing day
           Rolled o’er the glen their level way;
           Each purple peak, each flinty spire,
           Was bathed in floods of living fire.

[From the First Canto (XI) of The Lady of the Lake by Sir Walter Scott. An 1883 edition of the entire narrative poem is available at Project Gutenberg.]