QUEENS

The red sun stared unwinking at the East

Then slept under a cloak of hodden gray;

The rimy fields held the last light of day,

A little tender yet. And I remember

How black against the pale and wintry west

Stood the confused great army of old trees,

Topping that lean, enormous-shouldered hill

With crossing lances shivering and then still.

I looked as one that sees

Queens passing by and lovelier than he dreamed,

With fringe of silver light following their feet,

And all those lances vail'd, and solemn Knights

Watching their Queens as with eyes grave and sweet

They left for the gray fields those airy heights.

Nothing had lovelier seemed —

Not April's noise nor the early dew of June,

Nor the calm languid cow-eyed Autumn Moon,

Nor ruffling woods the greenest I remember —

Than this pale light and dark of cold December.