Above Langness at Sundown

 

More gorgeous citadels than man can build,

Can build, or plan, bolder in sheer design

Than all his most advanced ideas could be,

Yet more ethereal, with rich light filled

They rise, tier upon tier, and glow and shine

Towering  above the amethystian sea.

What oriental domes so rich a gild

Can flaunt? Where can such minarets  divine

Be found in all such prodigality

Amongst  the  works of man however skilled?

They fade and change, these clouds that float in space,

Shot through with copper tints that, trembling, die;

Leaving a memory on the twilit sky

The very form and texture of God’s face!