STILL as the holy of holies breathes the vast, <br />Within its crystal depths the stars grow dim; <br />Fire on the altar of the hills at last <br />Burns on the shadowy rim. <br /> <br /> <br />Moment that holds all moments; white upon <br />The verge it trembles; then like mists of flowers <br />Break from the fairy fountain of the dawn <br />The hues of many hours. <br /> <br /> <br />Thrown downward from that high companionship <br />Of dreaming inmost heart with inmost heart, <br />Into the common daily ways I slip <br />My fire from theirs apart.<br /><br />George William Russell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dawn-132/
