Striving the steeds of Phœbus to assay;
And he, the drifting racks with gilded spear had riven;
With ochreous steeds coursing the plain of Heaven,
Bore high aloft his flambent crimson bowl
Steering on ruddy Hesperus for goal.
And far behind his chariot’s dust did leave
That frail ætherial gleam—the Star of eve.
I, wearied with the day’s fatiguing sorrow
Called to proud Helios “Hasten thou the morrow”!
Then clapped dim eyes upon the scene around