More glorious even than the one on high.
And graceful grasses with the violets blue,
Narcissus-like enchanted with themselves,
Hang motionless upon the view
Until the dusky elves
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Come out with chalices of crystal dew,
And darkness hides the mirror from their eyes.
The clouds have vanished from the faded west,
Save one, which low down in the gloaming lies;
And on its edge the evening star doth rest.
The night is come with all her majesty.
I bow before her, and I recognize
Her crown of beauty gleaming in the sky.
N. H. D.