Opals (Custance)/Fantasy

by Olive Custance

Fantasy

Faded fields and a faded sky,
And pointed poplar trees that sigh,
Sway and sigh as the wind sweeps by.

In the gray west a faint gold stain . . .
Dusk and the darkness, sisters twain,
Kiss through a silver veil of rain;

Dusk, with wonderful bows of hair
Either side of her face, and fair
Golden eyes like the sunset there . . .

Night, whose eyes are the eyes of love,
Flying low like a soft slow dove,
Mists beneath her, and clouds above: . . .

. . . O twilight trance, O deep sweet swoon . . .
Vague visions vanishing too soon! . . .
. . . Stars grow thick round the amber moon.