EVE of September, Sundown and swallows, The last flaming ember On the world limit dying! Sundown and swallows, (Eve of September -- Tomorrow they journey); In a last airy tourney, Round and round flying, Chirping and calling ... Now one by one follows Down the dark chimney-throat fluttering, falling! Vanished completely To soft-feathered slumber! Save one of their number There, mounting fleetly, Higher and higher, Till the fast fading passion Touches with fire That venturous pinion, Alone and aloft in sole mystic dominion Sundown and swallows ... A symbol I fashion: So I behold them -- All of my legion, One by one follows Where shadows enfold them ... A little delaying, I soon shall be leaving! My spirit upstaying, Too exalted for grieving, Is touched with what light from hesperian region! |