The Coming of the Tide of Night
Pale this twilight-face, Shade-ridden the horizon-light; The forest, a green-gold vision of grace In its frame of lavender mist.
No rose-leaf washed in moonlight; No vine on vermilion walls; Pale sunlight fading into night, Dark tunes, the music of the hour.
No death, nor life is ours, here; But the vast vague sea of black Sounded by star-mariners Seeking the Infinite's track.
Dhan Gopal Mukerji