Sonnet 12

 Clouds rosy-tinted in the setting sun, 
Depths of the azure eastern sky between, 
Plains where the poplar-bordered highways run, 
Patched with a hundred tints of brown and green, -- 
Beauty of Earth, when in thy harmonies 
The cannon's note has ceased to be a part, 
I shall return once more and bring to these 
The worship of an undivided heart.
 
Of those sweet potentialities that wait 
For my heart's deep desire to fecundate 
I shall resume the search, if Fortune grants; 
And the great cities of the world shall yet 
Be golden frames for me in which to set 
New masterpieces of more rare romance.

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