And pierced the iron-plated breast of Night
With ten thousand starry-spangled blades of fire.
Night, wounded by the arrows of the Sun,
Poured out ten thousand streams of living blood
That dripped from every fire-tipped arrow dire
Down in the sorrowing sea; and the wounds each one
And the arrows all lay skyed in the doming flood.
II.
Triumphant Darkness stretched his blackened height
Along the ground of heaven; all bleeding lay