The day burned crimson with a fever of delight Until the weary sun Slipped quietly to rest; Day sighed, and breathed across the stippled sky A hushed rhapsody Of purple couched notes -- Dusk heard, and padded in on somber feet. I caught the panoramic loveliness Of man towers silhouetted hazily Against a myriad-tinted sky. Lights blinked -- first here -- then there As Dark began to mount The weary, weary steps Up to his ebony throne. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A DEAD CHILD by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE TUFT OF FLOWERS by ROBERT FROST A COLD TEMPERAMENT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET SONG OF THE WHITE COMPANY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE A DIALOGUE BETWEEN HOM-VEG AND BALLURE'S RIVER by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN WORDS ON PUBLIC AFFAIRS by WITTER BYNNER THE WOUNDED HUSSAR by THOMAS CAMPBELL TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. FLY MESSENGER by EDWARD CARPENTER |