The sunset filled the western sky with splendor,
A glorious end to Spring's last dying day,
Low, light clouds trailed their rosy garments slowly
Through halls of clearest azure, far away,
Until the light departed sure and swiftly,
Leaving the afterglow all chill and grey.
Only a few large stars were gleaming brightly,
A half-moon looked from out a darkening sky,
A gentle breeze was stirring lightly
Among the crimson roses climbing nigh,
As Summer softly stepped, with half-closed wing,
Into the palace of the dying Spring.
First published in The Bulletin, 7 January 1904
