60G ROSA VERTNER JOHNSON [1850-60. THE SUNSET CITY. I SAW a strange, beautiful city arise On an island of light, in the sapphire skies, When the Sun in his Tyrian drapery dress'd, Like a shadow of God, floated down to the West. A city of clouds ! in a moment it grew On an island of pearl, in an ocean of blue, And spirits of twilight enticed me to stray Through these palaces reared from the ruins of day. In musical murmurs, the soft sunset air, Like a golden-winged angel, seemed calling me there, And my fancy sped on till it found a rare home, A palace of jasper, with emerald dome. On a violet sti'and, by a wide azure flood ; And where this rich City of Sunset now stood, Methought some stray seraph had broken a bar From the gold gates of Eden and left them ajar. Here were amethyst castles, whose turrets seemed spun Of fire drawn out from the heart of the sun ; With columns of amber, and fountains of light, Which threw up vast showers, so chang- ingly bright. That Hope might have stolen their ex- quisite sheen To weave in her girdle of rainbows, I Aveen, And arches of glory grew over me there. As these fountains of Sunset shot up through the air. While I looked from my cloud-pillared palace afar, I saw Night let fall one vast, tremulous star, On the calm brow of Even, who then, in return For the gem on her brow and the dew in her urn. Seemed draping the darkness and hiding its gloom With the rose-colored curtains which fell from her loom, All bordered with purple and violet dyes, Floating out like a fringe from the vail of the skies. And lo ! far a'way, on the borders of night. Rose a chain of cloud-mountains, so won- drously bright. They seemed built from those atoms of splendor that start Through the depths of the diamond's crys- talline heart. When light with a magical touch has re- vealed The treasure of beams in its bosom con- cealed ; And torrents of azure, all graceful and proud. Swept noiselessly down from these mount- ains of cloud. But the tide of the darkness came on with its flood. And broke o'er the strand where my frail palace stood ; While far in the distance the moon seemed to lave Like a silver-winged swan in night's ebon wave. And then, like Atlantis, that isle of the bless'd, Which in olden time sunk 'neath the ocean to rest (Wliich now the blue water in mystery shrouds). Dropped down in the darkness this City of clouds.
