About thy palace in the silver ray

Of some far, moony globe. But when the hour,

The long-expected comes, the ivory gates

Open on noiseless hinge before thy bower

Unbidden, and the jewelled chariot waits

With magic steeds. Thou from the fronting rim

Bending to urge them, whilst thy sea-dark hair

Falls in ambrosial ripples o'er each limb,

With beautiful pale arms, untrammelled, bare

For horsemanship, to those twin chargers fleet

Dost give full rein across the fires that glow

In the wide floor of heaven, from off their feet

Scattering the powdery star-dust as they go.

Come swiftly down the sky, O Lady Night,

Fall through the shadow-country, O most kind,

Shake out thy strands of gentle dreams and light

For chains, wherewith thou still art used to bind

With tenderest love of careful leeches' art

The bruised and weary heart

In slumber blind.

X. To Sleep

I will find out a place for thee, O Sleep--

A hidden wood among the hill-tops green,

Full of soft streams and little winds that creep

The murmuring boughs between.

A hollow cup above the ocean placed

Where nothing rough, nor loud, nor harsh shall be,

But woodland light and shadow interlaced

And summer sky and sea.

There in the fragrant twilight I will raise

A secret altar of the rich sea sod,

Whereat to offer sacrifice and praise

Unto my lonely god:

Due sacrifice of his own drowsy flowers,

The deadening poppies in an ocean shell

Round which through all forgotten days and hours

The great seas wove their spell.

So may he send me dreams of dear delight

And draughts of cool oblivion, quenching pain,

And sweet, half-wakeful moments in the night

To hear the falling rain.

And when he meets me at the dusk of day

To call me home for ever, this I ask--

That he may lead me friendly on that way

And wear no frightful mask.

XI. In Prison

I cried out for the pain of man,

I cried out for my bitter wrath

Against the hopeless life that ran

For ever in a circling path

From death to death since all began;

Till on a summer night

I lost my way in the pale starlight

And saw our planet, far and small,

Through endless depths of nothing fall

A lonely pin-prick spark of light,

Upon the wide, enfolding night,

With leagues on leagues of stars above it,

And powdered dust of stars below--

Dead things that neither hate nor love it

Not even their own loveliness can know,

Being but cosmic dust and dead.

And if some tears be shed,

Some evil God have power,

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