Page:Poems Whitney.djvu/66

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60
the bridge of the dragon.
And for the time a sadder grace is won,
So ebbed the crimson current of the day
To its great, vanished heart; and over all
Looked forth the stars—far, still, ethereal.

She rested her in many a haunted woof
Of song, and dews, and light, and shadows shifting,
As the blithe company of leaves aloof
Danced in the fragrant night-winds calm uplifting.
Sometimes through azure chasms, in the thick roof
High overhead, the kindling moon went drifting
In masses of white light on banks of gloom,
Or shimmering Albeles rich with sudden bloom.

And if the clouds swelled gloomily, and sent
Their fever-tongues into the cool, dark air,
That shrined her brightness in its moving tent,
They harmed her not:—as nature everywhere
Had dreamed a human dream, whereso she went,
All things breathed peace. So wondrous night did wear