AT twilight Azescohos standeth With domes that are builded of color: Its deep-wrinkled strata and boulders, Its sombre-leaved greenness of noonday, Fade, lost in the blue misty splendor That seems like the soul of a color; While far, far away to the eastward One vast fading glory of scarlet— A color that seems as if living— Possesses the sky like a passion, And higher and higher in heaven Fades out in the soft bluish greenness That climbs to the zenith above us. Below, far below, as if thinking, At rest lies the sensitive lake; and Like one who sings but to her own heart Such thoughts as a loving lip whispers, Thus deep in the waters are pictured The beauty of sunset and hillside. For the blue that was blue on the mountain, Seen deep in the heart of the water, Hath the touch of some blessing upon it,— Some strangeness of purity in it, Like color that shall be in heaven. This water-held vision of sunset, Ablaze in the depths of the darkness, Is it but for the sight? Canst not hear it, This prophet of color, to tell us Of what may be yet, when the senses Awaken to lordlier being, And the thought of the blind man is ours: When colors unearthly men know not Shall float from the trumpets of angels, And tints of the glory of heaven Shall be for us color and music? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE APOLOGY OF THE BISHOPS IN ANSWER TO BONNER'S GHOST by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A SPRING CAROL by ADRA CAROLINE BATCHELDER BOUGHT WITH A PRICE by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THE BIRD-BOY by ROBERT BLOOMFIELD NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 7 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT WORTH FOREST by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT NEW YEAR'S VERSES FOR THE CARRIER OF THE MIRROR, 1826 by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |