THE fire in the west burns low; A fading gleam of light Only remains of the crimson glow That made half heaven so bright; And the weary day, in her shroud of gray, Sighs out her life on the breast of night. The fire on my hearth burns low; Beside the glimmering light I dream of that sunset long ago When all my heaven seemed bright. But since that day, with each sunset ray I've longed to die in the gloom of night. The fire of my life burns low; And through the darkening night Strange, shadowy shapes flit to and fro, Awaiting my spirit's flight. And these shadowy things show glistening wings To bear me away on the morning light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY NOVEMBER GUEST by ROBERT FROST HIS SAVIOURS WORDS, GOING TO THE CROSSE by ROBERT HERRICK ANOTHER SPRING by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI IDYLLS OF THE KING: MERLIN AND VIVIEN by ALFRED TENNYSON SONNET: TO J.M.K. by ALFRED TENNYSON THE GODS AND THE WINDS by ALEXANDER ANDERSON THE KING OF YVETOT by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER |