An Anthology of Australian Verse/Sunset (p 202)
Arthur
Albert
Dawson
Bayldon
SUNSET
The weary wind is slumbering on the wing:
Leaping from out meek twillght’s purpling blue
Burns the proud star of eve as though it knew
It was the big king jewel quivering
On the black turban of advancing night.
In the dim west the soldiers of the sun
Strike all their royal colours one by one,
Reluctantly surrender every height.
Leaping from out meek twillght’s purpling blue
Burns the proud star of eve as though it knew
It was the big king jewel quivering
On the black turban of advancing night.
In the dim west the soldiers of the sun
Strike all their royal colours one by one,
Reluctantly surrender every height.