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| THE END is come: in thunder and wild rain | |
| Autumn has stormed the golden house of Summer. | |
| She, going, lingers yet,—sweet glances throwing | |
| Of kind farewell upon the land she loves | |
| And leaves. No more the sunny landscape glows | 5 |
| In the intense, uninterrupted light | |
| And splendor of transparent, cloudless skies; | |
| No more the yellow plain its tawny hue | |
| Of sunburnt ripeness wears; even at noon | |
| Thick watery veils fall on the mountain-ranges, | 10 |
| And the white sun-rays, with pale slanting brushes, | |
| Paint rainbows on the leaden-colored storms. | |
| Through milky, opal clouds the lightning plays, | |
| Visible presence of that hidden power,— | |
| Mysterious soul of the great universe, | 15 |
| Whose secret force runs in red human veins, | |
| And in the glaring white veins of the tempest; | |
| Uplifts the hollow earth, the shifting sea; | |
| Makes stormy reformations in the sky, | |
| Sweeping, with searching besoms of sharp winds, | 20 |
| The foul and stagnant chambers of the air, | |
| Where the thick, heavy summer vapors slumber; | |
| And, working in the sap of all still-growth, | |
| In moonlight nights, unfolding leaves and blossoms,— | |
| Of all created life the vital element | 25 |
| Appearing still in fire,—whether in the sea, | |
| When its blue waves turn up great swathes of stars; | |
| Or in the glittering, sparkling winter ice-world; | |
| Or in the flickering white and crimson flames | |
| That leap in the northern sky; or in the sparks | 30 |
| Of love or hate that flash in human eyes. | |
| Lo, now, from day to day and hour to hour | |
| Broad verdant shadows grow upon the land, | |
| Cooling the burning landscape; while the clouds, | |
| Disputing with the sun his heaven-dominion, | 35 |
| Checker the hillsides with fantastic shadows. | |
| The glorious unity of light is gone, | |
| The triumph of those bright and boundless skies; | |
| Where, through all visible space, the eye met nothing | |
| Save infinite brightness,—glory infinite. | 40 |
| No more at evening does the sun dissolve | |
| Into a heaving sea of molten gold, | |
| While over it a heaven of molten gold | |
| Panted, with light and heat intensely glowing, | |
| While to the middle height of the pure ether, | 45 |
| One deepening sapphire from the amber spreads. | |
| Now trains of melancholy, gorgeous clouds, | |
| Like mourners at an emperor’s funeral, | |
| Gather round the down-going of the sun; | |
| Dark splendid curtains, with great golden fringes, | 50 |
| Shut up the day; masses of crimson glory, | |
| Pale lakes of blue, studded with fiery islands, | |
| Bright golden bars, cold peaks of slaty rock, | |
| Mountains of fused amethyst and copper, | |
| Fierce flaming eyes, with black o’erhanging brows, | 55 |
| Light floating curls of brown and golden hair, | |
| And rosy flushes, like warm dreams of love, | |
| Make rich and wonderful the dying day, | |
| That, like a wounded dolphin, on the shore | |
| Of night’s black waves, dies in a thousand glories. | 60 |
| These are the very clouds that now put out | |
| The serene beauty of the summer heavens. | |
| The autumn sun hath virtue yet, to make | |
| Right royal hangings for his sky-tent of them; | |
| But, as the days wear on, and he grows faint | 65 |
| And pale and colorless, these are the clouds | |
| That, like cold shrouds, shall muffle up the year, | |
| Shut out the lovely blue, and draw round all— | |
| Plain, hill, and sky—one still, chill wintry gray. * * * * * | |
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