The red of newest, maiden mountains parts
For purple fragrance in the sleepy sky,
For time has lost its deepest urge, and thinks,
And thinks, amid the golden light that slips
From deepest rift in cloud-enfolded sky.

Pale white and darkest green beside the cliff
In twilight, and the slender willow mourns,
And in the ancient gloaming comes the song
That broke her heart so long ago, and there
By silver light the thrush yet sings his love.