AN AFTERGLOW ON THE NILE
Silver and misty rose
And iris-flushed mother-of-pearl
Is the world at the clear day's close,
River and sky and sand:
Into a land we sail
Soft-hued like the dreams of a girl,
Vaguely outlined and bubble-frail—
Into a mystic land.
Speak, and the vision breaks,
Yea, feel but too strongly, it flies
From the tumult its beauty wakes
Deep in our hearts' stronghold;
We can but stand and gaze,
With all our souls' life in our eyes,
As we spin out this day of days
Thin to a thread of gold.
. . . . . .