 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
304
SUNSET VISIONS
The sunset even of a winter's dayLeaves beauties every time it goes away,
And in the west most gloriously weaves
A world of visions, every time it leaves.
Oh, when life's voyage in these storms is done,
For such a city clothed in such a sun!
For I have gazed, when day and toil were by,
And saw such splendid places in the sky,
Such cities, palaces, and golden hills,
And seas that calmest happiness instils,
And felt that surely fancy could not so
Impose upon the mind with every glow
That truth or fiction could invent or see,
Seeming as rich, and yet as nothing be.
No, something cometh to the gazing mind,
And when the colours fade, bright hope remains behind.
| The Poems of John Clare | |