How Austere-Robed The Night
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
0
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How austere-robed the night
Walks with circus-ropes of day
The twilight of a life
The calming of the river
Of Passion that in the red Ocean flows
Wherein it tincts and laps the crimson shores.
The night like to a wounded hunter
That will not vail his pride
His suffering lets flow
The gushing of the pain
The gnashing of the teeth
The night prowls like a hunted beast
From tree to tree a black moves suddenly.
The night how like the robe
That fits on the fast-dwindling day
The aching sun
Mortified from its spent glory at mid-day
Follows the cycle that engulfs
The day and night and dawn.
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