Sonnets of the Wingless Hours | ||
7
TWILIGHT.
A sudden pang contracts the heart of Day,
As fades the glory of the sunken sun.
The bats replace the swallows one by one;
The cries of playing children die away.
As fades the glory of the sunken sun.
The bats replace the swallows one by one;
The cries of playing children die away.
Like one in pain, a bell begins to sway;
A few white oxen, from their labour done,
Pass ghostly through the dusk; the crone that spun
Outside her door, turns in, and all grows grey.
A few white oxen, from their labour done,
Pass ghostly through the dusk; the crone that spun
Outside her door, turns in, and all grows grey.
And still I lie, as I all day have lain,
Here in this garden, thinking of the time,
Before the years of helplessness and pain;
Here in this garden, thinking of the time,
Before the years of helplessness and pain;
Or playing with the fringes of a rhyme,
Until the yellow moon, amid her train
Of throbbing stars, appears o'er yonder lime.
Until the yellow moon, amid her train
Of throbbing stars, appears o'er yonder lime.
Sonnets of the Wingless Hours | ||