BEYOND the sleepy hills of Spain, The sun goes down in yellow mist, The sky is fresh with dewy stars Above a sea of amethyst. Yet in the city of my love High noon burns all the heavens bare-- For him the happiness of light, For me a delicate despair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DEPARTURE PLATFORM by THOMAS HARDY EPITAPHS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 63. AL-HAIY by EDWIN ARNOLD COMPLAINS OF THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE; AN IDYLLIUM by BION THE FAKENHAM GHOST by ROBERT BLOOMFIELD THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 68. THE THREE AGES OF WOMAN: 3 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |