 | Poems |  |
I.
The sleep of sun-beguiled Earth is o'er—
The pearly lids of Day have drawn their screen
Of golden lashes from her lustrous eyes,
And they—albeit she shadows them in dark,
As one about to gaze upon a sight
Of most intolerable brilliancy—
Exult in interchange of glances glad,
With all the orbs of Argus-visioned Heaven!
The pearly lids of Day have drawn their screen
Of golden lashes from her lustrous eyes,
And they—albeit she shadows them in dark,
As one about to gaze upon a sight
Of most intolerable brilliancy—
Exult in interchange of glances glad,
With all the orbs of Argus-visioned Heaven!
On Day's blank skyey page Magician Night
Has traced the figures of his glittering lore,
The gorgeous symbols of his unknown tongue—
The eloquence of a language mystical—
The soul-exciting secrets of a science
Written in tomes which are the Universe,
Lettered in Stars, worded in burning Worlds,
And syllabled in Systems radiance-wrought!
Has traced the figures of his glittering lore,
The gorgeous symbols of his unknown tongue—
The eloquence of a language mystical—
The soul-exciting secrets of a science
Written in tomes which are the Universe,
Lettered in Stars, worded in burning Worlds,
And syllabled in Systems radiance-wrought!
| Poems | |