Sonnet
Autumnal dusk was sweeping with a star,Over the wood where lovers’ lips were meeting;Trembled the first cold night-flame, passed the farLow-whistling sadness of a duck’s wings beating.Heart strained to heart. The purple deepened throughA twilight shriven in its pain of dying;Swiftly the wing-beats slanted earthward toThe darkening marshes, with a throat-soft crying.Night crept through dusk, as now the old surpriseCrept through our kisses to the inner love,An age-old wistfulness. Our pensive eyesYearned to the darkness and the veil thereof;Yea, and our ears found sorrow in the criesOf moor-fowls,—and the darkness wheeled above.WINFIELD SHIRAS.
Autumnal dusk was sweeping with a star,Over the wood where lovers’ lips were meeting;Trembled the first cold night-flame, passed the farLow-whistling sadness of a duck’s wings beating.Heart strained to heart. The purple deepened throughA twilight shriven in its pain of dying;Swiftly the wing-beats slanted earthward toThe darkening marshes, with a throat-soft crying.Night crept through dusk, as now the old surpriseCrept through our kisses to the inner love,An age-old wistfulness. Our pensive eyesYearned to the darkness and the veil thereof;Yea, and our ears found sorrow in the criesOf moor-fowls,—and the darkness wheeled above.WINFIELD SHIRAS.
Autumnal dusk was sweeping with a star,Over the wood where lovers’ lips were meeting;Trembled the first cold night-flame, passed the farLow-whistling sadness of a duck’s wings beating.Heart strained to heart. The purple deepened throughA twilight shriven in its pain of dying;Swiftly the wing-beats slanted earthward toThe darkening marshes, with a throat-soft crying.
Autumnal dusk was sweeping with a star,
Over the wood where lovers’ lips were meeting;
Trembled the first cold night-flame, passed the far
Low-whistling sadness of a duck’s wings beating.
Heart strained to heart. The purple deepened through
A twilight shriven in its pain of dying;
Swiftly the wing-beats slanted earthward to
The darkening marshes, with a throat-soft crying.
Night crept through dusk, as now the old surpriseCrept through our kisses to the inner love,An age-old wistfulness. Our pensive eyesYearned to the darkness and the veil thereof;Yea, and our ears found sorrow in the criesOf moor-fowls,—and the darkness wheeled above.
Night crept through dusk, as now the old surprise
Crept through our kisses to the inner love,
An age-old wistfulness. Our pensive eyes
Yearned to the darkness and the veil thereof;
Yea, and our ears found sorrow in the cries
Of moor-fowls,—and the darkness wheeled above.
WINFIELD SHIRAS.
WINFIELD SHIRAS.