Colors that from darkness burn,
That my childhood saw,
They will yet to me return,
In brief death's awe.

I shall slip into them, deep,
As I used to do,
With eyelids closer than in sleep,
And colors coming through.

They will wall my transient room
Brighter than their names,
Glowing out of velvet gloom,
Like safe, cool flames.

Earth to me will call in vain,—
On those colors whirled,
I shall find my way again
To a remembered world.