@2I@1 SING the East at sunset, the low East, The lonely East, that is not looked upon; Her glory hath departed, from her wan And straitened eyes the stare is unreleased; She sees the marriage and the marriage-feast, The shameless ardour of the Bride o' the Sun, The troubled yielding of the Captive One, Who droops and wavers till his light hath ceased. Still sits the East and broods across the earth With fixéd eyes: @3Is motherhood in vain?@1 And minds her of the marvel of his birth And the long silences that spoke again; Thus through the night she dreams; at dawn her eyes With awe are holden and with strange surmise. |