The Silken Tassel/The Image

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The Image
When all the day swift waves of memories fill
My inmost mind with voices that arise
And fall upon my soul with strange replies
From one who is to me an image still;

When at its fall I sit upon a hill,
And full in view I face the western skies,
And find before me those twin-Venus eyes
That stand as one to centralise my will;

The glimmering landscape moves and melts in air,
That voice, that image and those eyes then seem
Blending into one point of faery worth:

Then gathering all my Love, and Hope, and Dream,
I stand upon the roof of this grey earth
And plunge into the fading twilight there!

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