Explore "In Gold Lacquer" by Bliss Carman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Gold are the great trees overhead, / And gold the leaf-strewn grass, / As though a cloth of gold were spread / To let a seraph pass. / And where the pageant should go by, / Meadow and wood and stream, / The world is all of lacquered gold, / Expectant as a dream.
Against the sunset's burning gold, / Etched in dark monotone / Behind its alley of grey trees / And gateposts of grey stone, / Stands the Old Manse, about whose eaves / An air of mystery clings, / Abandoned to the lonely peace / Of bygone ghostly things.
In molten gold the river winds / With languid sweep and turn, / Beside the red-gold wooded hill / Yellowed with ash and fern. / The streets are tiled with gold-green shade / And arched with fretted gold, / Ecstatic aisles that richly thread / This minster grim and old.
The air is flecked with filtered gold, -- / The shimmer of romance / Whose ageless glamour still must hold / The world as in a trance, / Pouring o'er every time and place / Light of an amber sea, / The spell of all the gladsome things / That have been or shall be.