 | Rivers to the Sea |  |
I
Off Gibraltar
BEYOND the sleepy hills of Spain,
The sun goes down in yellow mist,
The sky is fresh with dewy stars Above a sea of amethyst. Yet in the city of my love High noon burns all the heavens bare—
For him the happiness of light, For me a delicate despair.
The sky is fresh with dewy stars Above a sea of amethyst. Yet in the city of my love High noon burns all the heavens bare—
For him the happiness of light, For me a delicate despair.
| Rivers to the Sea | |