East and West.

Twilight has veiled the East in sundown grey,
And the dun wold
Stretches in one unbroken sheet away
To climb the sky: a rich autumnal day
Dies colourless and cold.

Grey silent poplars, straight as grenadiers,
Guard the King's way—
A long white streak that winds and disappears
Into the darkness, far from hopes and fears
And joyless play.

Though all the East seems full of quiet prayer,
The west wind flings
In upward gusts the frolic of a fair,
A tinkling dissonance and murky glare
Of booths and swings.

Paris, September, 1855.