 | Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell |  |
29
THE AFTER-GLOW.
The sun hastes to his setting once again,
The western skies like molten jewels gleam,
And splendour robes the hills, the palms, the stream,
And turns to gold the sandy level plain,
Where Thebes, the “hundred-gated,” once held reign.
And now he sinks—now fades the last pale beam,
And all the glory passes like a dream
We long to keep, but long to keep in vain.
The western skies like molten jewels gleam,
And splendour robes the hills, the palms, the stream,
And turns to gold the sandy level plain,
Where Thebes, the “hundred-gated,” once held reign.
And now he sinks—now fades the last pale beam,
And all the glory passes like a dream
We long to keep, but long to keep in vain.
But see! From out this grey and sombre sky,
Like life from death, there springs a radiance new,
That with fresh beauty takes the ravished eye,
A flood of amber, emerald and blue;
Dear God! when sinks my sun, oh grant that I
May leave such after-glow behind me too!
Like life from death, there springs a radiance new,
That with fresh beauty takes the ravished eye,
A flood of amber, emerald and blue;
Dear God! when sinks my sun, oh grant that I
May leave such after-glow behind me too!
| Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell | |