Classic Poem

EVE of September,
Sundown and swallows,
The last flaming ember
On the world limit dying!
Sundown and swallows,
(Eve of September —
Tomorrow they journey);
In a last airy tourney,
Round and round flying,
Chirping and calling ...
Now one by one follows
Down the dark chimney-throat fluttering, falling!

Vanished completely
To soft-feathered slumber!
Save one of their number
There, mounting fleetly,
Higher and higher,
Till the fast fading passion
Touches with fire
That venturous pinion,
Alone and aloft in sole mystic dominion

Sundown and swallows ...
A symbol I fashion:
So I behold them —
All of my legion,
One by one follows
Where shadows enfold them ...
A little delaying,
I soon shall be leaving!
My spirit upstaying,
Too exalted for grieving,
Is touched with what light from hesperian region!