Tingles in these vines

Weaving golden arabesques

On the pale evening sky?

Ah, the heavens this hour

Have drunk of sunset's ruby Wine

For those golden cobwebs to weave

Their magic of twilight dreams.

[64]

[64]

56

AT SUNDOWN

Two shadows fell, tremulous and frail,

From the upland over the lake-surface pale,

While the shivering reeds shook at sunset,

As the swans sailed into a sea of jet.

The rippling waters, and the breeze,

And the shadows that fall from the trees,

Mingled and melted with the twain,

A song of whitewashed away by its black refrain.

Only words remained, palpitating and few,

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