 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
76
SUNSET OVER THE MULGRAVE WOODS.
Such a sunset! draping clouds in golden
Robes, and casting colour all abroad,
Glad to show to nobody beholden
Is she for it, plenty more is stored,
Plenty more to-morrow morning molten
Masses on the canvas will be poured;
Robes, and casting colour all abroad,
Glad to show to nobody beholden
Is she for it, plenty more is stored,
Plenty more to-morrow morning molten
Masses on the canvas will be poured;
Blue and pink and crimson intershaded,
Interwoven, soft as beauty's hair,
Tracery most intricately braided,
Delicate as lace-work here and there,
One into another fashions faded,
Paler than the former, but as fair;
Interwoven, soft as beauty's hair,
Tracery most intricately braided,
Delicate as lace-work here and there,
One into another fashions faded,
Paler than the former, but as fair;
77
Best of all the bloom upon the woodlands,
Golden, rosy, dying into white,
Surely underneath them something good stands,
Sleeps a gracious fairy of the night,
Glad to stretch towards us if she could hands
Bountiful, and sparkle into sight.
Golden, rosy, dying into white,
Surely underneath them something good stands,
Sleeps a gracious fairy of the night,
Glad to stretch towards us if she could hands
Bountiful, and sparkle into sight.
| Poems and Sonnets | |