Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/118

90 Dark grow the pine-woods, dark and drear—

The woods that bring the sunset near.

When o'er wide seas the sun declines,

Far off its fading glory shines,—

Far off, sublime, and full of fear,—

The pine-woods bring the sunset near.

This house that looks to east, to west,

This, dear one, is our home, our rest;

Yonder the stormy sea, and here

The woods that bring the sunset near.

SUNSET FROM THE TRAIN

I

then the sunset smiled,

Smiled once and turned toward dark,

Above the distant, wavering line of trees that filed

Along the horizon's edge;

Like hooded monks that hark

Through evening air

The call to prayer;—

Smiled once, and faded slow, slow, slow away;

When, like a changing dream, the long cloud-wedge,

Brown-gray,

Grew saffron underneath and, ere I knew,

The interspace, green-blue—

The whole, illimitable, western, skyey shore,

The tender, human, silent sunset smiled once more.

II

Thee, absent loved one, did I think on now,

Wondering if thy deep brow