Down-drifting from the portals
Of Paradise, unto the land of mortals.
Yet do I feel thee awing
My heart with mystery, as thy updrawing
Moves thro' the tides of Ocean
And leaves lorn beaches barren of its motion;
Or strands upon near shallows
The wreck whose weirded form at night unhallows
The fisher maiden's prayers—
"For him!—that storms may take not unawares!"
So wan, so unavailing,
Across the vacant day-blue dimly trailing!
But Night shall come atoning
Thy phantom life thro' day, and high enthroning
Thee in her chambers arrassed
With star-hieroglyphs, leave thee unharassed
To glide with silvery passion,
Till in earth's shadow swept thy glowings ashen.