The Secret Splendour

Many have sworn to follow you

Nor ever rest

 Their eyes from clinging to your sun

Till the bitter West.

How shall my gaze bear standing wide

To catch no light at all?

On your full glow may God command

These eyelids fall.

One prayer was mine at the dawn of your face:

"Let my dark be soon,

But never your sunset—may my night

Tryst with your noon!"

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