Page:Collected poems vol 1 de la mare.djvu/162

 N ominous bird sang from its branch,
 * "Beware, O Wanderer!

Night 'mid her flowers of glamourie spilled
 * Draws swiftly near:

"Night with her darkened caravans,
 * Piled deep with silver and myrrh,

Draws from the portals of the East,
 * O Wanderer near."

Night who walks plumed through the fields
 * Of stars that strangely stir —

Smitten to fire by the sandals of him
 * Who walks with her."