C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Sunset
By Edith Matilda Thomas (1854–1925)
From ‘A Winter Swallow: With Other Verse’
W
Of pomp, what hosts in Tyrian rich array,
Crowding the mystic outgate of the day:
What silent hosts, pursuing or pursued,
And all their track with wealthy wreckage strewed!
What seas that roll in waves of gold and gray,
What flowers, what flame, what gems in blent display,—
What wide-spread pinions of the phœnix brood!
Give me a window opening on the west,
And the full splendor of the setting sun.
There let me stand and gaze, and think no more
If I be poor, or old, or all unblest;
And when my sands of life are quite outrun,
May my soul follow through the day’s wide door!