In the Dorian Mood | ||
70
A COROT IN NATURE
The sunset sky burns deep and red beyondThe massy oakwoods as they fade into
That opaque green which is night's very hue,
So dark, so full of quiet. Every frond
And mighty verdure-vested branch hath donned
Dim raiment of great shadow. 'Tis a view,
Quick with some sovran charm, to be by you
Remembered, and perpetually re-conned.
The perfect silence, the vast lonesomeness,
The cool, the glow, the breath of evening,
Scarce tinged with a faint scent of blossomed spring,
71
Are they not sweet, and shall you not confess
That such dear pathos maketh almost glad?
In the Dorian Mood | ||