Poem by Alice Guerin Crist

Afterglow

A magic wrought of dying dreams
 A wizard light that creeps and glows;
Painting grey hills and sluggish streams
 In tints of gold and rose

Staining with fire the cherry-snow
 Lighting our hearts with sudden flame
As if the love of long ago
 Back from its ashes came

Rose-flushed and radiant everything
 And joy and hope are born anew;
Even the darting swallow's wing
 Has caught its glowing hue

Ah! swift it dies from hill and plain…
 Be wise dear heart and let me go;
Not love that lit our hearts again -
 Only it's afterglow!

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