Maurice Baring, "In Memoriam A.H."

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In Memoriam A.H.

The wind had blown away the rain

That all day long had soaked the level plain.

Against the horizon's fiery wrack,

The sheds loomed black.

And higher, in their tumultuous concourse met,

The streaming clouds, shot-riddled banners, wet

With the flickering storm,

Drifted and smouldered, warm

With flashes sent

From the lower firmament.

And they concealed–

They only here and there through rifts revealed

A hidden sanctuary of fire and light,

A city of chrysolite.

We looked and...