The moon declines in lonely gold
Among the stars of ashen-grey-
Veiling the pallors of decay
With clouds and glories, fold on fold.
Now, in a crystal interlude,
Stillness and twilight briefly rest,
Ere sudden gules illume the crest
Of peaks where solemn purples brood;
And from the low Favonian bourn
A sweet wind blows so lightly by
It seems the futile silver sigh
Breathed by the lingering moon forlorn.
At Sunrise
Clark Ashton Smith
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Poem topics: lonely, silver, wind, sweet, gold, crystal, moon, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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