The Fading Light of Day

Poem By Tom Wolfe

And the slant light steepened in the skies,
The old red light of waning day
Made magic fire upon the river,
And the train made on forever its tremendous monotone
That was like silence and forever—
And now there was nothing
But that tremendous monotone of time and silence
And the river, the haunted river,
The enchanted river
That drank forevre its great soundless tides
From out the inland slowly,
And that moved through all men's lives
The magic thread of its huge haunting spell,
And that linked his life to magic kingdoms
And to lotus-land
And to all the vision of the magic earth
That he had dreamed of as a child,
And that bore him on forever
Out of magic
To all the grime and sweat and violence of the city,
And into America.

The great river burned there in his vision
In that light of fading day,
And it was hung there
In that spell of silence and forever,
And it was flowing on forever,
And it was stranger than a legend,
And as dark as time.

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Other poems of WOLFE


And who shall say—
Whatever disenchantment follows—
That we ever forget magic,

O Lost

We shall not come again.
We never shall come back again.
But over us all, over us all,

Like the River

Why are you absent in the night, my love?
Where are you when the bells ring in the night?
Now, there are bells again,


The wasting helve of the moon rode into heaven
Over the bulk of the hills.
There was a smell of wet grass and lilac,


On the Square,
The slackened fountain
Dripped a fat spire of freezing water
Into its thickening rim of ice.