Classic Poem

(Late September Twilight)

Now earth and sky melt into one
Great symphony of pearl and gray
We bless the cool of dusk, the dun
Departure of the fevered day;
Happy that Summer on her flaming; way
Has gone.

The trees, against the shifting light,
Become fantastic; one may trace
A screen of stars, a network bright
Where worlds and branches interlace
A mystic veil across the cloudy face
Of night.

Now it is evening; in the park
The lights, like burning drops of dew,
Flame through the trees; and every spark
Falls in the lake to form anew
A web of tattered brilliance woven through
The dark.

And, like an army all awry,
With broken hopes and banners torn,
The people pass, and in each eye
I see the joy for which they mourn —
The unknown rapture stirs that is not born
To die.