Page:Poems Craik.djvu/269

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FALLEN IN THE NIGHT!.
251
He wraps it in his glory's blaze,
He stoops to kiss its forehead cold;
And, all transfigured by his rays,
It gleams—an Isle of molten gold.

The sun may set, the shades descend,
Earth sleep—and yet while sleeping smile;
But it will live unto life's end—
That vision of the Golden Isle.


FALLEN IN THE NIGHT!
IT dressed itself in green leaves all the summer long,
Was full of chattering starlings, loud with throstles' song.
Children played beneath it, lovers sat and talked,
Solitary strollers looked up as they walked.
O, so fresh its branches! and its old trunk gray
Was so stately rooted, who forbode decay?
Even when winds had blown it yellow and almost bare,
Softly dropped its chestnuts through the misty air;
Still its few leaves rustled with a faint delight,
And their tender colors charmed the sense of sight,