Pale beryl sky, with clouds Hued like dove’s wing, O’ershadowing The dying day, And whose edge half enshrouds The first fair evening star, Most crystalline by far Of all the stars that night enring, Half human in its ray,— What blessed, soothing sense of calm Comes with this twilight,—sovereign balm That takes at last the bitter sting Of day’s keen pain away.
|
From “Sonnets in Shadow” THERE is such power even in smallest things To bring the dear past back; a flower’s tint, A snatch of some old song, the fleeting glint Of sunbeams on the wave—each vivid brings The lost days up, as from the idle strings Of wind-harp sad a breeze evokes the hint... |
Three horsemen galloped the dusty way While sun and moon were both in the sky; An old crone crouched in the cactus’ shade, And craved an alms as they rode by. A friendless hag she seemed to be, But the queen of a bandit crew was she. One horseman tossed her a scanty dole, A... |
Pale beryl sky, with clouds Hued like dove’s wing, O’ershadowing The dying day, And whose edge half enshrouds The first fair evening star, Most crystalline by far Of all the stars that night enring, Half human in its ray,— What blessed, soothing sense of calm Comes... |
Three horsemen galloped the dusty way While sun and moon were both in the sky; An old crone crouched in the cactus’ shade, And craved an alms as they rode by. A friendless hag she seemed to be, But the queen of a bandit crew was she. One horseman tossed her a scanty dole, A... |
|
We must be nobler for our dead, be sure, Than for the quick. We might their living eyes Deceive with gloss of seeming; but all lies Were vain to cheat a prescience spirit-pure. Our soul’s true worth and aim, however poor, They see who watch us from some deathless skies With glance death-... |
