Explore Poems GO!

Sonnet Lxx: The Hill Summit

Rating: 2.7

This feast-day of the sun, his altar there
In the broad west has blazed for vesper-song;
And I have loitered in the vale too long
And gaze now a belated worshipper.
Yet may I not forget that I was 'ware,
So journeying, of his face at intervals
Transfigured where the fringed horizon falls,—
A fiery bush with coruscating hair.
And now that I have climbed and won this height,
I must tread downward through the sloping shade

And travel the bewildered tracks till night.
Read More

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM