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How the old Mountains drip with Sunset
How the Hemlocks burn-
How the Dun Brake is draped in Cinder
By the Wizard Sun-

How the old Steeples hand the Scarlet
Till the Ball is full-
Have I the lip of the Flamingo
That I dare to tell?

Then, how the Fire ebbs like Billows-
Touching all the Grass
With a departing-Sapphire-feature-
As a Duchess passed-

How a small Dusk crawls on the Village
Till the Houses blot
And the odd Flambeau, no men carry
Glimmer on the Street-

How it is Night-in Nest and Kennel-
And where was the Wood-
Just a Dome of Abyss is Bowing
Into Solitude-

These are the Visions flitted Guido-
Titian-never told-
Domenichino dropped his pencil-
Paralyzed, with Gold-