Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, HARMONIES OF THE EVENING, by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE



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HARMONIES OF THE EVENING, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Now is the hour when, trembling to and fro
Last Line: Thy memory, hallowed shrine, my soul does greet.


NOW is the hour when, trembling to and fro,
All flowers like censers waft their odours sweet,
And scents in evening air, and music meet
A solemn waltz, a languorous vertigo.

All flowers like censers waft their odours sweet,
The viol shudders as a heart in woe,
A solemn waltz, a languorous vertigo,
The heavens stretch fair and sad like some great sheet.

The viol shudders as a heart in woe,
Kind heart that hates black nothingness to meet,
The heavens stretch fair and sad like some great sheet,
The sun sinks, drowning, in his sanguine glow.

Kind heart that hates black nothingness to meet,
On the bright past doth pensive love bestow;
The sun sinks, drowning, in his sanguine glow;
Thy memory, hallowed shrine, my soul does greet.





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