 | At Sunset |  |
146
NOVEMBER
All in a chamber
Besprent with amber
The parting Year his guests receives.
His sunsets tender
Their robes of splendor;
Still is he crowned with golden leaves.
Besprent with amber
The parting Year his guests receives.
His sunsets tender
Their robes of splendor;
Still is he crowned with golden leaves.
While yet he lingers
The Frost's swift fingers
Are weaving him his wintry shroud;
A pall descending
With crystal blending
Shall veil his forests, slumber-bowed.
The Frost's swift fingers
Are weaving him his wintry shroud;
A pall descending
With crystal blending
Shall veil his forests, slumber-bowed.
Beyond this curtain
His end is certain.
Why, then, does he still smile and sing?
Because a vision
Of hope elysian
Reveals the promise of the spring.
His end is certain.
Why, then, does he still smile and sing?
Because a vision
Of hope elysian
Reveals the promise of the spring.
1909.
| At Sunset | |