New Zealand Verse/The Dying of the Day

by William Jukes Steward

XXXIV.

The Dying of the Day.

Upon a couch with gorgeous splendours drest
Day lay a-dying in the amber West,
Silent and sad, for since his race begun
He had known much of sorrow ’neath the sun;

Bereft of all his children, the fair Hours,
That bloomed and faded like the summer flowers,
Save one, the last, of all-surpassing charms
That lay a-dying with him, in his arms:

And sorrowful the royal couch beside
Sat pale-browed Evening, the old monarch’s bride,
Lovely in grief as tearfully she smiled
Upon her hoary spouse and sunny child.

Silence reigned all around, for Nature’s choir
Had hushed their songs to view the god expire;
And she stood tip-toe, and with bated breath
Watched through the casement the old monarch’s death.

And soon it came; the lifelight left his eye,
And through the palace-windows came a sigh,
Deep-drawn and faint, from out the distant West
As of one weary sinking into rest;

The Hour was gone, and with it died the Day,
And o’er them Evening threw a pall of grey,
Then kissed the placid features of the dead,
And drew her dusky curtains round the bed;

Then lighting up a star she hung it high,
For a pale corpse-light, in the fading sky,
And as from out their lairs began to creep
The sombre shadows she went forth to weep;

And up and down the garden Earth she passed,
And as she walked her tears fell thick and fast;
And then returning with a solemn tread,
She robed herself in mourning for the dead,
And clothed in black, but crowned with jewels bright,
Went forth to watch until the morning light.

William Jukes Steward.