West and away the wheels of darkness roll, Days beamy banner up the east is borne, Spectres and fears, the nightmare and her foal, Drown in the golden deluge of the morn. But over sea and continent from sight Safe to the Indies has the earth conveyed The vast and moon-eclipsing cone of night, Her towering foolscap of eternal shade. See, in mid heaven the sun is mounted; hark, The belfries tingle to the noonday chime. Tis silent, and the subterranean dark Has crossed the nadir, and begins to climb.
Return to the A. E. Housman Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; September 1922