...
To me awaking from this evil dream,
Rose tinted morn appeared in fulgent light,
While great Apollo with his spears did seem
To be dispelling all the hosts of night,
Proud Helios in chariot thwart the sky,
Coursing through fleecy clouds kept on his way,
And in the dimmer distance, I descry
—Where Night her maukish raiment casts away—
A crowd of fleeing objects, gleaming hair