Too bold a light suits not all qualities; See, now that evening primroses the sky, The dark distinction of our roofs and trees Which we made nothing of when noon rode high. These twigs are etched against that light they love Myriads, and each one wins its revelation; Obscure they were until the sun's remove, And now each makes its mark and intimation. So with some spirits, who have long been known But vaguely in the lamping riot of life, Their curious beauty then was overshone; And now comes twilight, now their hieroglyph Emerges firm with individual grace, Responding calm and safe to that unstaring face. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MARTYRS OF THE MAINE by RUPERT HUGHES THE WHITE WATCH (OPUS JUVENIS) by GORDON BOTTOMLEY BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 3. THE SECOND SONG by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) ON THE PALATINE HILL by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |