 | From Sunset Ridge |  |
139
MICHAEL ANGELO'S TWILIGHT
The dreamy twilight of a day far spent
Built up to noon with swift, sublime intent,
Till, where the verticed light each failure shows,
Thought made his pause, new reasons to disclose.
Built up to noon with swift, sublime intent,
Till, where the verticed light each failure shows,
Thought made his pause, new reasons to disclose.
Oh! had I elsewhere started, elsewise wrought,
The high perfection were not vainly sought.
I made the daring leap, some foible sure
My course diverted, greater wit might cure.
The high perfection were not vainly sought.
I made the daring leap, some foible sure
My course diverted, greater wit might cure.
The shadows of the waning day come on.
I mark where touched my flight its highest zone.
I see my toilsome traces high in air
Sowing their broken splendors everywhere.
I mark where touched my flight its highest zone.
I see my toilsome traces high in air
Sowing their broken splendors everywhere.
The true antithesis of work and rest
I seek, oh, mystic Twilight, in thy breast.
Night hesitates to light her sheaf of stars,
And I, a pilgrim, linger at the bars.
I seek, oh, mystic Twilight, in thy breast.
Night hesitates to light her sheaf of stars,
And I, a pilgrim, linger at the bars.
| From Sunset Ridge | |