To a Dying Aurora
O, alas! Aurora, by night’s dream-swept gales driven
Upon what hindrance have you visited your journey through
The sweet dew-cloakéd clouds of high, silver, austral Heaven?
Alas! Your tress is gulfed within the deep night’s pallid blue!
I see your rosy light once streaming in a ghostly vapor
Producing in thin veils out from your sage-golden rim
Like a moth around an ember-gleanéd, silk-thin taper,
But now you fled just like a frightened bird from off a limb
Of a cypress, of a cedar, of an oak most vast and free
Aurora, please come back and thrust your mellow, humble light
Against the gleaming coral caves of pearl-laden sea
And the flowery, soft bowers of the vast, starry night
© 2013 Gleb Zavlanov
Copyright © Gleb Zavlanov | Year Posted 2013
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