Her morning face, and all her clouds of rose
With flying petals light the waking world,
Does not your ecstasy swim on the flood
Of my remembered eyes, and their delight
Re-jewel beauty's diadem?
Ara. I beg——
Aris. When throbbing wonders of a dying sun
Trail off their glories like escaping souls,
And Night with lustred heaven round her neck
Lures up immensities, whose spirit longs