DAY goeth bold in cloth of gold, <br /> A royal bridegroom he; <br />But Night in jewelled purple walks— <br /> A Queen of Mystery. <br />Day filleth up his loving-cup <br /> With vintage golden-clear; <br />But Night her ebon chalice crowns <br /> With wine as pale as Fear. <br /> <br />Day drinks to Life, to ruddy Life, <br /> And holds a kingly feast. <br />Night drinks to Death; and while she drinks— <br /> Day rises in the East! <br /> <br />They may not meet; they may not greet; <br /> Each keeps a separate way: <br />Day knoweth not the stars of Night, <br /> Nor Night the Star of Day. <br /> <br />So runs the reign of Other Twain. <br /> Behold! the Preacher saith <br />Death knoweth not the Light of Life, <br /> Nor Life the Light of Death!<br /><br />Victor James Daley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/day-and-night-2/
