In the Deep Flushing of the Western Sky by Maria Lowell

Sonnet.

In the deep flushing of the Western sky, / The new moon stands as she would fain be gone, / And, dropping earthward, greet Endymion:

If Death uplift me, even thus should I, / Companioned by the silver spirits high

And stationed on the sunset's crimson towers, / Bend longing over earth's broad stretch of bowers, / To where my love beneath their shades might lie; / For I should weary of the endless blue, / Should weary of my ever-growing light, / If that one soul, so beautiful and true, / Were hidden by earth's vapors from my sight, / Should wane and wane as changeful planets do, / And move on slowly, wrapt in mine own night.