SUNRISE.

I saw the shining-limbed Apollo stand,

Exultant, on the rim of Orient,

And well and mightily his bow he bent,

And unseen-swift the arrow left his hand.

Far on it sped, as did those elder ones

That long ago shed plague upon the Greek —

Far on — and pierced the side of Night, who weak

And out of breath with fright, fled to his sons,

The nether ghosts; and lo! his jewelled robe

No more did shade a sleep-encircled world;

And thereupon the faëry legions furled

The silk of silence, and the wheeling globe

Spun freer on its grand, accustomed way,

While all things living rose to hail the day.