Sunset Song
FAR off against the solemn sky
Black lie the city’s towers;
Before me rustles, dim and dry,
My field of golden flowers.
How thin the wind’s cool whisper draws
Through withered leaf and stalk!
Is this the breeze that once would pause
With blossoms bright to talk?
Dark lies the land in twilight sad,
No bird sings in its bowers;
Where is the glory once that clad
My field of golden flowers?
The distant city rings its bells,
Like memory’s tender chime;
O sweet, sweet bells, ye speak farewells
To life’s enchanted prime!
Dark lies the land in twilight cold,
Gone are the sumptuous hours;
The city sleeps, and shadows fold
My field of golden flowers.
