In Darkness, and pacing the Thunder-Beat Shore
By many Waves,
No sound being near to me there but the hoarse
Cicala’s cry,
While that unseen Sword, the Zodiacal Light,
Falchion of Dawn,
Made clear all the Orient, wanning the Silvery Stars,
I heard the fine flute of the Fast-Fading Fire,
The Morning Star,
Pipe thus to the Glimmering Glories of Night,