A SUDDEN trembling through the star's repose, A thrill of light pulsing at Night's dark breast, Till Dawn's dim promise is made manifest— Pale, like the leaves around a folded rose. All the wan stars swarm back and melt as those Low, pallid lights rise seething, unsuppressed, Stirred like the white foam on a green wave's crest, Till all the sky is like a budding rose. But the red bar of light that throbs and glows Breaks of a sudden, and the cloud-flakes start, Curling with their faint, pink-flushed rims apart, Like the dropped petals of a full-blown rose, Till the sun springs up where the skies unclose Like the gold centre of the rose's heart. |