Till all the west was brightened into gold;
Till all the east gave back the colors bold
In softened, mellowed hues, yet rich and warm.
And I have turned my eyes from such a sight,
Rather than watch the black usurp the gold;
And waited till the stars in myriad fold,
Has come to deck the peaceful brow of night;
I see, O friend whom I thought mine for years,
Your love which was the glory of my day,
Begins to wane; oh! let me turn away,
Nor bid me gaze until it disappears.
Let me remember that I had your love,
And what that love was, at its brightest hour,
Till looking up, I recognize the power
Of stars of comfort, shining from above.
___Mary Alice Manley