Classic Poem

Through fires of rose and saffron sinks the sun
Beyond the glittering waters' molten rim,
And the fair daylight hours, in joy begun,
Go down to death with him.

Slowly the splendours dwindle, slowly die.
The darkness deepens. Faint as from the verge
Of the vast emptiness of wave and sky
Come whispers of the surge.

Low hung against the star-gemmed violet eve,
The moon, dew-veiled, an ivory mirror gleams;
Give back, O moon, day's lost delights, or weave
Their memories into dreams!