12
The weary Sun betook himself to rest.
—Then issued Vesper from the fulgent West,
Outshining like a visible God
The glorious path in which he trod.
And now, ascending, after one dark hour,
And one night's diminution of her power,
Behold the mighty Moon! this way
She looks as if at them—but they
Regard not her:—oh better wrong and strife,
Better vain deeds or evil than such life!
The silent Heavens have goings-on;
The stars have tasks—but these have none!
