Explore "Poems" by Elinor Jenkins on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Dear is young morning's tender-hued attire: / To us and ours, 'stead of that promise, came / A brief and burning sunset, blood and flame, / And, looking on the end of our desire, / Yet said we, "What if fealty to a name / Have built our hearts' beloved a funeral pyre? / Their death hath kindled a fair beacon fire / To lighten all this world of fear and shame, / And none shall quench it." As the words were said, / Darkened and failed the strange, unearthly light, / And faded all the surging sea of gold, / And nought was left of the fierce glories fled / But ashen skies slow deepening into night, / Lit by pale memory's stars that shake for cold.