AT THE CLOSE OF NIGHT

WHITE with starry shine

The air beneath the. sky,

Windless and still,.

Awaits what summoning voice

From caves of earth,

From furthest verges of the sea

Where the silken hangings of dawn

Cover the mystic gate through which the Sun shall pass ?

The gazelles of darkness run swift towards the West;

Their shadowy feet flicker over ground bright with dew ;

And a little wind of the morning lifts the leaves and fronds of the forest.

November 8, 1936.