To-night the west o'er-brims with warmest dyes; 
Its chalice overflows 
With pools of purple colouring the skies, 
Aflood with gold and rose; 
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine, 
As sinks the sun within that world of wine. 

I seem to hear a bar of music float 
And swoon into the west; 
My ear can scarcely catch the whispered note, 
But something in my breast 
Blends with that strain, till both accord in one, 
As cloud and colour blend at set of sun. 

And twilight comes with grey and restful eyes, 
As ashes follow flame. 
But O! I heard a voice from those rich skies 
Call tenderly my name; 
It was as if some priestly fingers stole 
In benedictions o'er my lonely soul. 

I know not why, but all my being longed 
And leapt at that sweet call; 
My heart outreached its arms, all passion thronged 
And beat against Fate's wall, 
Crying in utter homesickness to be 
Near to a heart that loves and leans to me. 
AT SUNSET 


To-night the west o'er-brims with warmest dyes; 
Its chalice overflows 
With pools of purple colouring the skies, 
Aflood with gold and rose; 
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine, 
As sinks the sun within that world of wine. 

I seem to hear a bar of music float 
And swoon into the west; 
My ear can scarcely catch the whispered note, 
But something in my breast 
Blends with that strain, till both accord in one, 
As cloud and colour blend at set of sun. 

And twilight comes with grey and restful eyes, 
As ashes follow flame. 
But O! I heard a voice from those rich skies 
Call tenderly my name; 
It was as if some priestly fingers stole 
In benedictions o'er my lonely soul. 

I know not why, but all my being longed 
And leapt at that sweet call; 
My heart outreached its arms, all passion thronged 
And beat against Fate's wall, 
Crying in utter homesickness to be 
Near to a heart that loves and leans to me.