109. Poem "How the old Mountains drip with Sunset"

How the old Mountains drip with Sunset

How the Hemlocks burn -

How the Dun Brake is draped in Cinder

By the Wizard Sun -


How the old Steeples hand the Scarlet

Till the Ball is full -

Have I the lip of the Flamingo

That I dare to tell?


Then, how the Fire ebbs like Billows -

Touching all the Grass

With a departing - Sapphire - feature -

As a Duchess passed -


How a small Dusk crawls on the Village

Till the Houses blot

And the odd Flambeau, no men carry

Glimmer on the Street -


How it is Night - in Nest and Kennel -

And where was the Wood -

Just a Dome of Abyss is Bowing

Into Solitude -


These are the Visions flitted Guido -

Titian - never told -

Domenichino dropped his pencil -

Paralyzed, with Gold -


(F327)

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