Poor Night

Poor Night has stood up from the misty ground,
And with her robe of holes flung far around
Protects the skybound city best she can,
And all that shows are happy lights of man.
Poor Night is proud, nay, now not poor at all,
Got rich by caping towers spiritual,
Forms softened now that were more hard by day,
When work was joyous firmness of man’s way.
Poor Night of wealthy hours, peaced by time,
More gloriful than Noonday at his prime,
Poor Night, poor Night, poor Night, O rocket Night,
Divine now with man’s lift in you refined,
Dear Amazon be-jeweled with heroes’ sight,
O richest, sacred Night of deathless mind!

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