As the sun sets, its lingering light seems to lift the valley’s mist like perfume and use it to wash the moon’s face with a rosy glow. The speaker stands by a pool, watching goldfish drift through the water; their brown, trailing tails cut the surface into shifting pieces that continually flow back together. Soon the moon rises silver-bright and sends its light in streams down into the valley, which lies quiet and dreamy, as if listening to the harmony of night. The mood is calm and hushed, almost reverent. There is no rush here—only the slow layering of sunset and moonlight, water and mist. The speaker feels small and absorbed, noticing how the evening’s changing light turns an ordinary valley, pool, and fish into something delicate and briefly sacred.
The Lingering Light of the Sun — Summary
The lingering light of the sun Takes from the chalice of the valley Its mist-perfume to wash the Moon-face with rose. In the pool at my feet the goldfishes drag their trains of brown Which cleave it into parts that ceaselessly mingle anew. The moon, silver bright Through thousand streams sends her light Into the valley aswoon, listening to the harmony of night.