The day, lying faded and fair
In his chamber of purple and vair.—
When, above it, you see her uncover
Her star-girdled darkness of hair—
Gold-hooped with the gold of the even—
And for the day's burial prepare,
The spirit of night in the heaven,
O'er that vale, is most hauntingly fair;
So fair that you wish it were given
That you in the rays of her hair,