She watch’d the battle’s breaking tide;
And as she rent her azure robe
Darkness descended o’er the globe.
‘Break never, Night,’ she cried, ‘nor bring
Before I come again the morn
With all her heav’nly light, for scorn
Of this base world so slumbering;
Where men for thrice five hundred years
Their sin shall mourn, and me, in tears.’
1882.