Through the still air of night <br />Suddenly comes, alone and shrill, <br />Like the far-off voice of the distant light, <br />The single piping trill <br />Of a bird that has caught the scent of the dawn, <br />And knows that the night is over ; <br />(She has poured her dews on the velvet lawn <br />And drenched the long grass and the clover), <br />And now with her naked white feet <br />She is silently passing away, <br />Out of the garden and into the street, <br />Over the long yellow fields of the wheat, <br />Till she melts in the arms of the day. <br />And from the great gates of the East, <br />With a clang and a brazen blare, <br />Forth from the rosy wine and the feast <br />Comes the god with the flame-flaked hair ; <br />The hoofs of his horses ring <br />On the golden stones, and the wheels <br />Of his chariot burn and sing, <br />And the earth beneath him reels; <br />And forth with a rush and a rout <br />His myriad angels run, <br />And the world is awake with a shout, <br />' He is coming ! The sun ! The sun ! '<br /><br />Lord Alfred Douglas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/night-coming-out-of-a-garden/
