The Break of Day


 * The stars are pale.

Old is the Night, his case is grievous,
 * His strength doth fail.


 * Through stilly hours

The dews have draped with love's old lavishness
 * The drowsy flowers.


 * And Night shall die.

Already, lo, the Morn's first ecstasies
 * Across the sky.


 * An evil time is done.

Again, as some one lost in a quaint parable,
 * Comes up the Sun.