Light fades, under the creeping edge of darker hours,
Beyond the organ grooves and sandy towers,
Burns up a sky of lapis lazuli.
A conflagration from the west
Reflects each brick and stone,
Projects the spire, the rough hewn cross;
Towers of fire reaching aloft.

If now the alchemist could see their orange hue
Behold the basic churchyard stone,
Now change, now changed to greater worth,
Above the huddled buildings at the top of the hill,
The light resplendent creeps
Under the edge of darkening hours
The light resplendent, fades.