This after-sunset is a sight for seeing, Cliff-heads of craggy cloud surrounding it. —And dwell you in that glory-show? You may; for there are strange strange things in being, Stranger than I know.
Yet if that chasm of splendour claim your presence Which glows between the ash cloud and the dun, How changed must be your mortal mould! Changed to a firmament-riding earthless essence From what you were of old:
All too unlike the fond and fragile creature Then known to me….Well, shall I say it plain? I would not have you thus and there, But still would grieve on, missing you, still feature You as the one you were.