How beauteous the sun as it rises supreme, Like an explosion that greets us from above, Oh, happy is he that can hail with love, Its decline, more glorious far, than a dream. I saw flower, furrow, and brook.... I recall How they swooned like a tremulous heart 'neath the sun, Let us haste to the sky-line, 'tis late, let us run, At least to catch one slanting ray ere it fall. But the god, who eludes me, I chase all in vain, The night, irresistible, plants its domain, Black mists and vague shivers of death it forbodes; While an odour of graves through the darkness spreads, And on the swamp's margin, my timid foot treads Upon slimy snails, and on unseen toads.