Arise, come forth into the night! Arise,
Belovéd, for her dusky lips will teach
A nobler tale than any mortal speech,
And the pure lights of her eternal eyes,
Beyond all anger, sorrow and surprise,
Look with the same large loveliness on each,
Not human-fashion, scorning who beseech
To cherish those who scorn. The gleaming skies
Are royal with old goddesses and queens
Whose faces lit the earth till, banished thence,
They watch from heaven the fair, familiar scenes
That nevermore shall do them reverence,
Though humbled Cassiopaea earthward leans,
And Cynthia sheds her old beneficence.