The Poet

Dimly I see your face: I hear your breath Sigh faintly, as a flower might sigh in death And when you whisper, you but stir the air With a soft hush like summer's own despair.

THE LADY (aloud)

O Night divine, O Darkness ever blest, Give to our old sad Earth eternal rest. Since from her heart all beauty ebbs away, Let her no more endure the shame of day.