Classic Poem

I saw the snows of the Alps
Burnished by the sun
About half an hour before his setting.
After that
They were left to their wintry marble coldness,
Without a farewell gleam.
Yet suddenly the city
And the cathedral tower and trees
Were singled out for favor by the sun
Among his glittering clouds,
And gilded with the richest light.
A few minutes, and that glory vanished.