A Beckoning at Sunset

A BEAUTY of supernal things
Went with the dying sun, to-night, —
The Beauty that rich longing brings
To be away, in regions bright.
A something in my heart took wings.
And followed down the ardent light.
It was the Beauty brought me near
To one who loved it, long ago —
A soul, that, bending from the sphere,
Through Beauty, now, itself would show.
Oh, then, though to no mortal ear,
I spake the words, “ I love you so! ”