Shadows (Howe)/Goldenrod

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GOLDENROD
BEFORE the day light yields to conquering night,Death-faint, yet with a dying warrior's might,It struggles god-like 'gainst the sullen foe,And all the west with conflict fierce aglowIs edged with quivering rays of brighter hueThan morning's opening rose or midday's blue.
And dying summer, loath to lay asideIts customed many-colored robe of pride,With the last effort of a vanquished god,Skirts all its fields and roads with goldenrod.

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