40 At Dawn
With the breath of dawn
Cooling thy feverish brow,
And the fading of the last footfall of the stars
No kiss can I bring to thy bedside,
Nor caresses of cooling fire, my sweet.
Yet through this dreamful silence
That writes on the rim of the golden light
The story of our love
With most eloquent poignancy,
More love we pour into each other
Than the tryst of an eternal night.