 | The book of the dead |  |
190
[XCV. The day arose in dismal black]
The day arose in dismal black,
In dismal black crept out the morn;
Noon passed unheeded; and the rack
Grew darker, thicker, more forlorn,
In dismal black crept out the morn;
Noon passed unheeded; and the rack
Grew darker, thicker, more forlorn,
As down, behind yon wooded ledge,
The unseen sun supinely rolled;
Nor did he tinge the lowest edge
Of evening with his fiery gold.
The unseen sun supinely rolled;
Nor did he tinge the lowest edge
Of evening with his fiery gold.
Deep and more deep the darkness grew,
As the weird midnight hour drew nigh;
Until, from out the west, there flew
A little breeze, and swept the sky.
As the weird midnight hour drew nigh;
Until, from out the west, there flew
A little breeze, and swept the sky.
And all the stars together shone;
And, here and there, a planet glowed;
And the moon's waned and broken zone
Made silver of a ragged cloud.
And, here and there, a planet glowed;
And the moon's waned and broken zone
Made silver of a ragged cloud.
191
Then praised I Him who dimmed the day,
And made the evening's glory dull,
Only to wipe the stain away,
And make the night more beautiful.
And made the evening's glory dull,
Only to wipe the stain away,
And make the night more beautiful.
| The book of the dead | |