All other faces fade before thy face imperial.
As the dark night fades out when once the blue ethereal
Bright daylight fills the air:
As all the flowers draw back behind their leafy curtain
Instinctively afraid when regnant, red-lipped, certain
Of amplest homage, the grand rose draws near.

The man who has seen thee may well draw back in wonder,—
O man, the years may pass, the purple skies may thunder,
The clear spring freshets run,
New crimson dawns may break, new golden mist-wreaths brighten,
Yet till thy head at last with weary hair doth whiten
What stars are left thee, having seen the sun?