Explore "A Nocturne of Rubinstein" by Helen Gray Cone on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I. What now remains, what now remains but night? / Night hopeless, since the moon is in her grave!
Late came a glorious light / In one wide flood on spire and field and wave. / It found a flowing way / To secret places where the dead leaves lay; / It won the half-hid stream / To shy remembrance of her morning gleam; / Then on the sky's sharp shore / Rolled back, a fading tide, and was no more. / No more on spire and ivied window bright! / No more on field and wave!