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WESTERN WINDOWS.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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11

WESTERN WINDOWS.

Crimsoning the woodlands dumb and hoary,
Bleak with long November winds and rains,
Lo, at sunset, breathes a sudden glory,
Breaks a fire on all the western panes!
Eastward far I see the restless splendor
Shine through many a window-lattice bright;
Nearer all the farmhouse gables render
Flame for flame and melt in breathless light.
Many a mansion, many a cottage lowly,
Lost in radiance, palpitate the same
At the touch of Beauty strange and holy,
All transfigured in the evening flame.
Luminous, within—a marvellous vision—
Things familiar half-unreal show;
In the effluence of Land Elysian,
Every bosom feels a holier glow.

12

Faces lose, as at some wondrous portal,
Earthly masks, and heavenly features wear;
Many a mother, like a saint immortal,
Folds her child, a halo'd angel fair.