Poems and Baudelaire Flowers/Evening
EVENING
Long lines of quiet rooks
Winging to their rest
Over where the pines are dark
’Gainst the yellow West.
Gleaming pool and brown moor,
Stone, and bush, and tree
Slowly in the utter peace
Fade from you and me.
Ah! leave your hand in mine
Till the last light dies;
Thus… for ever… Nay, love,
Tears in your eyes?