white deer vanish ere the day; Above my Love the grass is green, My heart is colder than the clay! 

A grey tower in a forest green

The long wash of the waves was seen,

The woven forest boughs between!

The sunset slowly died away,

Stole forth among the branches grey;

They fled like ghosts before the day!

Still girdles round that castle grey;

The white deer vanish ere the day;

My heart is colder than the clay!

 A SUNSET ON YARROW. The wind and the day had lived together, They died together, and far away Spoke farewell in the sultry weather, Out of the sunset, over the heather, The dying wind and the dying day. Far in the south, the summer levin Flushed, a flame in the grey soft air: We seemed to look on the hills of heaven; You saw within, but to me 'twas given To see your face, as an angel's, there. Never again, ah surely never, Shall we wait and watch, where of old we stood, The low good-night of the hill and the river, The faint light fade, and the wan stars quiver, Twain grown one in the solitude. 

They died together, and far away

The dying wind and the dying day.

Flushed, a flame in the grey soft air:

To see your face, as an angel's, there.

Shall we wait and watch, where of old we stood,

Twain grown one in the solitude.

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