To-night the very horses springing by Toss gold from whitened nostrils. In a dream The streets that narrow to the westward gleam Like rows of golden palaces; and high From all the crowded chimneys tower and die A thousand aureoles. Down in the west The brimming plains beneath the sunset rest, One burning sea of gold. Soon, soon shall fly The glorious vision, and the hours shall feel A mightier master; soon from height to height, With silence and the sharp unpitying stars, Stern creeping frosts, and winds that touch like steel, Out of the depth beyond the eastern bars, Glittering and still shall come the awful night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BELL by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES EILEEN AROON by GERALD JOSEPH GRIFFIN ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER by JOHN KEATS TO LORD BYRON by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD FATI VALET HORA BENIGNI by SAMUEL BISHOP SIR W. TRELOAR'S DINNER FOR CRIPPLED CHILDREN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |