OF DAY CAME NIGHT
We lay by the sea, and knew
Darkness must make us one:
Heaven was thrilled clean through
By the trumpets of the sun,
The sea burned gold and blue.
The sand in the pale heat
Was parched as desert sand—
Your wrist where the veins meet,
The cool veins of your hand,
Made thirst seem bitter-sweet.
Never a word was said
Of what must be so soon;
In longing and in dread
The golden afternoon
Burned down, till dusk was shed.
It was not hope, nor fear,
Yet something of them both,
That held us trembling here,
Half eager and half loath
For darkness, dread but dear.
Few were the words were spoken,
But in each other’s eyes
We read the certain token
That sealed our destinies—
Our wings of pride were broken.
So, while the waters paled
Around us, and the west
Fainted, our hearts that failed,
In silence were confessed.
Silence at last prevailed.
And now up her clear stair
The evening-star began
To climb, where heaven was bare
A homing fish-hawk ran
Down avenues of air.
Night swallowed up the sun,
And darkness, like a hood,
Sank—and the sea breathed on;
In silence and solitude
The eternal will was done.