Great on the west, ere darkness crush her domes, <br />Wine-red the city of the sunset lies. <br />Below her courts the mournful ocean foams; <br />Above, no foam of cloud is in the skies. <br /> <br />Awhile I stand, a dreamer by the deep, <br />And watch the winds of evening sap her walls, <br />Till ashen armies to the ramparts sweep <br />And seas of shadow storm the gleaming halls. <br /> <br />So dies that far magnificence of light, <br />A conquered splendor on a crumbling pyre, <br />’Mid fall of crimson temples from their height <br />And ruined altars yielding up their fire. <br /> <br />So fades that city, one with all that finds <br />The nameless road that Beauty takes at last— <br />One with her dust upon the twilight winds <br />And all her music mingling with the Past. <br /> <br />“Farewell!” I whisper low—then thrill to see, <br />Unseen till now, eternal and afar, <br />Soul of dead day and pledge of peace to be, <br />The tranquil silver of the evening star.… <br /> <br />And even thus our city of a year <br />Must pass like those the shafted sunsets build, <br />Fleeting as all fair things and, fleeting, dear— <br />A rainbow fallen and an anthem stilled. <br /> <br />A rainbow fallen—but within the soul <br />Its deep indubitable iris burns; <br />An anthem stilled—yet for its ghostly goal <br />The incommunicable music yearns. <br /> <br />Only for Beauty’s passing shall we trace <br />The heavenly pathway that her feet have trod; <br />Only at her departure seek her face— <br />We that shall find it not this side of God.<br /><br />George Sterling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-evanescent-city/
