The dawn of the days unforgotten
⁠That noon could eclipse not or slay,
Whose fruits were as children begotten
⁠Of dawn upon day.

The years that were flowerful and fruitless,
⁠The years that were fruitful and dark,
The hopes that were radiant and rootless,
⁠The hopes that were winged for their mark,
Lie soft in the sepulchres fashioned
⁠Of hours that arise and subside,
Absorbed and subdued and impassioned,
⁠In pain or in pride.

But far in the night that entombs them
⁠The starshine as sunshine is strong,
And clear through the cloud that resumes them
⁠Remembrance, a light and a song,