Of yonder looks this world that by gilded monument,
Has but in dismal shades a silver lining;
And that journey of the mind above the skyline,
Oft mark'd by what you hide under the bower,
Of snow-capped Myrtle in age-old Beulah's night;
Whereby first look of the sun at morn on Darien Peak,
From the sullen earth arise, too deep for woe,
That our hopes and dreams upon the orient wave,
Of sunburnt faces, all break loose their oars to thee,
Against many a glorious sight, full of stars, thine eye,
So darkly lit ashore in timeless tide of the sea,
The golden brow by sunset of the evening sky.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2013.
All Rights Reserved.
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