Dark hills at evening in the west,
Where sunset hovers like a sound
Of golden horns that sang to rest
Old bones of warriors under ground,
Far now from all the bannered ways
Where flash the legions of the sun,
You fade--as if the last of days
Were fading, and all wars were done.
More verses by Edwin Arlington Robinson
- Luke Havergal
- Ben Jonson Entertains A Man From Stratford
- An Evangelist's Wife
- The Children Of The Night
- Archibald's Example