THE innocent, sweet Day is dead. Dark Night hath slain her in her bed. O, Moors are as fierce to kill as to wed! -- Put out the light, said he. A sweeter light than ever rayed From star of heaven or eye of maid Has vanished in the unknown Shade. -- She's dead, she's dead, said he. Now, in a wild, sad after-mood The tawny Night sits still to brood Upon the dawn-time when he wooed. -- I would she lived, said he. Star-memories of happier times, Of loving deeds and lovers' rhymes, Throng forth in silvery pantomimes. -- Come back, O Day! said he. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH by EVGENY ABRAMOVICH BARATYNSKY THE WHITE WATCH (OPUS JUVENIS) by GORDON BOTTOMLEY SONNETS OF LAURA: 2. THE VEIL by ELIZABETH COBBOLD ECLOGUE; CORYDON, CLOTTEN by CHARLES COTTON WAR AND HELL by ERNEST HOWARD CROSBY |