 | Sonnets of the Wingless Hours |  |
45
FADING GLORIES.
I.
The gold of nimbus and of background sky,
Around the auburn heads of sweet young saints
Still glows in frescoed cloisters; but the paints
Are fading on the wall since Faith's good-bye.
Around the auburn heads of sweet young saints
Still glows in frescoed cloisters; but the paints
Are fading on the wall since Faith's good-bye.
And you, blond angel throngs, who stand and try
Your citherns' golden strings; the colour faints
Upon your pure green robes, which mildew taints;
You sing your last hosanna, ere you die.
Your citherns' golden strings; the colour faints
Upon your pure green robes, which mildew taints;
You sing your last hosanna, ere you die.
The age that made the aureoled is long dead;
The gold behind their heads is sinking sun,
And night will wrap them in its pall of lead:
The gold behind their heads is sinking sun,
And night will wrap them in its pall of lead:
They are the dream-shapes of a time when none
Hoped earthly good; and long by man's dark bed
They stood and smiled. They fade; their task is done.
Hoped earthly good; and long by man's dark bed
They stood and smiled. They fade; their task is done.
| Sonnets of the Wingless Hours | |