The
team is loosen’d from the wain,
The boat is drawn upon the shore;
Thou listenest to the closing door,
And
life is darken’d in the brain.
Bright
Phosphor, fresher for the night,
By thee the world’s great work is heard
Beginning, and the wakeful bird;
Behind
thee comes the greater light:
The
market boat is on the stream,
And voices hail it from the brink;
Thou hear’st the village hammer clink,
And
see’st the moving of the team.
Sweet
Hesper-Phosphor, double name
For what is one, the first, the last,
Thou, like my present and my past,
Thy
place is changed; thou art the same.