 | [Poems by Piatt in] Poems of two friends |  |
41
SABBATH EVENING AFTER A SHOWER.
Fresh, breezy trees are shaking into gold,Against the sinking of the cool, broad sun;
Far spires shown o'er them, tremulously fold
Their sunny mingling presence scarcely won
Through the bright distance in the gush of light;
Long streets hang quiet down the golden air;
Low eaves and windows fresh are hidden bright
In vines sweet-fluttering, sunlit, everywhere.
How slow and calm and solemn afar are tolled
The evening bells down through the city wide,
With melancholy echoes through the gold.
Hushed twilight breathes along the river's tide,
Like music in a soul whispering to Peace
Of Sabbath Hours and Days that never cease.
| [Poems by Piatt in] Poems of two friends | |