To-night the very horses springing by Toss gold from whitened nostrils. In a dream The streets that narrow to the westward gleam Like rows of golden palaces; and high From all the crowded chimneys tower and die A thousand aureoles. Down in the west The brimming plains beneath the sunset rest, One burning sea of gold. Soon, soon shall fly The glorious vision, and the hours shall feel A mightier master; soon from height to height, With silence and the sharp unpitying stars, Stern creeping frosts, and winds that touch like steel, Out of the depth beyond the eastern bars, Glittering and still shall come the awful night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A CASTILIAN SONG by SARA TEASDALE ODE INSCRIBED TO W.H. CHANNING by RALPH WALDO EMERSON IN HOSPITAL: 23. MUSIC by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY WHEN THE KYE CAME HOME by JAMES HOGG EPITAPH INTENDED FOR SIR ISAAC NEWTON, IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by ALEXANDER POPE |