Poems (Eckley)/The Ruined Shrine
HE sky is blossoming with gold,
Bright gardens sowed with light,
Flowers that bloom in mystic cloud,
Die in Mosaic night.
THE RUINED SHRINE.
HE sky is blossoming with gold,Bright gardens sowed with light,
Flowers that bloom in mystic cloud,
Die in Mosaic night.
The ruined shrine, with gold is decked,
The drooping weeds are strung
With jewels from the sunset mine,
Which dance the leaves among.
The drooping weeds are strung
With jewels from the sunset mine,
Which dance the leaves among.
Tho' dim and stained the fresco is,
Defaced with blots of time,
Green are the vine and ivy spray,
That in love's union climb.
Defaced with blots of time,
Green are the vine and ivy spray,
That in love's union climb.
The wayside shrine is lighted too
By sunset's flash of gold,
That glimmers with a lustre, brief
As a life-tale that is told.
By sunset's flash of gold,
That glimmers with a lustre, brief
As a life-tale that is told.