Get Your Premium Membership

How the old Mountains drip with Sunset

 How the old Mountains drip with Sunset
How the Hemlocks burn --
How the Dun Brake is draped in Cinder
By the Wizard Sun --

How the old Steeples hand the Scarlet
Till the Ball is full --
Have I the lip of the Flamingo
That I dare to tell?

Then, how the Fire ebbs like Billows --
Touching all the Grass
With a departing -- Sapphire -- feature --
As a Duchess passed --

How a small Dusk crawls on the Village
Till the Houses blot
And the odd Flambeau, no men carry
Glimmer on the Street --

How it is Night -- in Nest and Kennel --
And where was the Wood --
Just a Dome of Abyss is Bowing
Into Solitude --

These are the Visions flitted Guido --
Titian -- never told --
Domenichino dropped his pencil --
Paralyzed, with Gold --

Poem by Emily Dickinson
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - How the old Mountains drip with SunsetEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...



More Poems by Emily Dickinson

Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on How the old Mountains drip with Sunset

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem How the old Mountains drip with Sunset here.

Commenting turned off, sorry.