Opals (Custance)/Fantasy

by Olive Custance

Fantasy

Faded fields and a faded sky,And pointed poplar trees that sigh,Sway and sigh as the wind sweeps by.

In the gray west a faint gold stain . . .Dusk and the darkness, sisters twain,Kiss through a silver veil of rain;

Dusk, with wonderful bows of hairEither side of her face, and fairGolden eyes like the sunset there . . .

Night, whose eyes are the eyes of love,Flying low like a soft slow dove,Mists beneath her, and clouds above: . . .

. . . O twilight trance, O deep sweet swoon . . .Vague visions vanishing too soon! . . .. . . Stars grow thick round the amber moon.