After Sunset

By George Sterling

There is no wind to stir the cypress tree.
     Amber and chill the lucid sunset sank,
     A wine the breathless lips of Evening drank.
Peace is upon the headland and the sea.

The foam but whispers on the fading shore.
     Solemn and desolate the ocean lies,
     Azure of deeper twilight than the skies'.
The night's enormous house is built once more.

The last, dark gull has left the northern dune-
     So clear against the sky-line, though so far.
     A great, a calm, a slowly westering star
Goes down the heavens with a slender moon.

The shadows of eternity remain-
     The sense of wonder that the stars recall.
     Here Beauty everlasting renders all-
Her sorrow that is joy, her holy pain. 

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