Drops in the wind-flower’s scarlet urns,

When sunset, like a city, burns 5

Across the glassy midland sea.

This night gives back that double day,

Which clothed the earth when I was young!

A light most like some godlike lay

By parted hero-angels sung:— 10

It stirred my heart; and through my tongue

It passed, methought,—but passed away.

The entrancement of that time is o’er,