As thou still black must be,
Till her kind beams thy black to brightness turneth.
Follow her while yet her glory shineth:
There comes a luckless night,
That will dim all her light;
And this the black unhappy shade divineth.
Follow still since so thy fates ordainèd;
The Sun must have his shade,
Till both at once do fade—
The Sun still proud, the shadow still disdainèd.