Through the silver-pure hours,
Till the stars disappear like a dream that may never be told,
Which the dawning dispels.
Never so darkling the alley but opens at last
On unlimited space;
Each gate is the frame of a vision that stretches away
To the rims of the sky.
Never a scar that was left by the pitiless past
But has taken a grace,
Like the mark of a smile that was turned upon children at play