Beyond the dusky corn-fields, toward the west, <br />Dotted with farms, beyond the shallow stream, <br />Through drifts of elm with quiet peep and gleam, <br />Curved white and slender as a lady's wrist, <br />Faint and far off out of the autumn mist, <br />Even as a pointed jewel softly set <br />In clouds of colour warmer, deeper yet, <br />Crimson and gold and rose and amethyst, <br />Toward dayset, where the journeying sun grown old <br />Hangs lowly westward darker now than gold, <br />With the soft sun-touch of the yellowing hours <br />Made lovelier, I see with dreaming eyes, <br />Even as a dream out of a dream, arise <br />The bell-tongued city with its glorious towers.<br /><br />Archibald Lampman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-city-26/
