40
AT DAWN
With the breath of dawn
Cooling thy feverish brow,
And the fading of the last footfall of the stars
No kiss can I bring to thy bedside,
Nor caresses of cooling fire, my sweet.
Yet through this dreamful silence
That writes on the rim of the golden light
The story of our love
With most eloquent poignancy,
More love we pour into each other
Than the tryst of an eternal night.
41
From her many-colored bow Nature
Has hurled her silver arrows of rain
And slain the hosts of Dark.
Jeweled with a single star, the Moon
Walks the garden of Night;
Higher and higher
Through the star-enflowered pathways of sapphire
She draws her train of silver.