It is a solemn evening, golden-clear-- <br />The Alpine summits flame with rose-lit snow <br />And headlands purpling on wide seas below, <br />And clouds and woods and arid rocks appear <br />Dissolving in the sun's own atmosphere <br />And vast circumference of light, whose slow <br />Transfiguration--glow and after-glow-- <br />Turns twilight earth to a more luminous sphere. <br /> <br />Oh heart, I ask, seeing that the orb of day <br />Has sunk below, yet left to sky and sea <br />His glory's spiritual after-shine: <br />I ask if Love, whose sun hath set for thee, <br />May not touch grief with his memorial ray, <br />And lend to loss itself a joy divine?<br /><br />Mathilde Blind<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-after-glow/
