The Evening Star

Above the sunset's many-tinted bar,
Where light on light, a smiling iris gnar,
Mellows to mystery of near and far,
Swings passionately pale the Evening Star!
Queen of the twilight–from a conquered sky
She smiles to see the Day grow faint and die.

by Victoria Grace Blackburn

Comments (2)

The whole poem is incredible. Like Wordsworth, Swinburne lost his genius badly with older age, but this 'still ahead of its time' piece of gorgeously formalised deathwish remains one of my favourite and most often self-quoted poems.
the first and last stanzas are chillingly incredible