Night And Day

The innocent, sweet Day is dead.

Dark Night hath slain her in her bed.

O,

Moors are as fierce to kill as to wed! — Put out the light, said he.

A sweeter light than ever

From star of heaven or eye of

Has vanished in the unknown Shade. — She's dead, she's dead, said he.

Now, in a wild, sad

The tawny Night sits still to

Upon the dawn-time when he wooed. — I would she lived, said he.

Star-memories of happier times,

Of loving deeds and lovers' rhymes,

Throng forth in silvery pantomimes. — Come back,

O Day! said he.