 | Old Year Leaves |  |
A BISCAYAN SUNSET.
April 17th, 1879.
A golden halo gilds the sky,
And the wind-unruffled sea,
A scene it is where poet's eye
Could subtle loveliness descry
Unweariedly.
And the wind-unruffled sea,
A scene it is where poet's eye
Could subtle loveliness descry
Unweariedly.
Hark! from afar the deep-toned roar
Of the Atlantic surge—
Yon sail will soon be seen no more
Now light-illumed: 'tis fleeting o'er
The sea-scape's verge.
Of the Atlantic surge—
Yon sail will soon be seen no more
Now light-illumed: 'tis fleeting o'er
The sea-scape's verge.
92
The stars appear—strange visions rise;
Of man's dim destiny
How typical are these calm skies!
While like to man the sad sea lies
Troubled though free.
Of man's dim destiny
How typical are these calm skies!
While like to man the sad sea lies
Troubled though free.
No wingèd wanderer slowly cleaves
The silence in his flight;—
His burning throne the Warmth-King leaves
While the fair firmament receives
The crown'd Queen Night.
The silence in his flight;—
His burning throne the Warmth-King leaves
While the fair firmament receives
The crown'd Queen Night.
| Old Year Leaves | |