Poem by Rupert Chawner Brooke

Day and Night

Through my heart's palace Thoughts unnumbered throng;
   And there, most quiet and, as a child, most wise,
High-throned you sit, and gracious. All day long
   Great Hopes gold-armoured, jester Fantasies,
And pilgrim Dreams, and little beggar Sighs,
   Bow to your benediction, go their way.
And the grave jewelled courtier Memories
   Worship and love and tend you, all the day.

But when I sleep, and all my thoughts go straying,
   When the high session of the day is ended,
And darkness comes; then, with the waning light,
   By lilied maidens on your way attended,
Proud from the wonted throne, superbly swaying,
   You, like a queen, pass out into the night. 

1. The True Beatitude
2. He Wonders Whether to Praise or to Blame Her
3. The Way That Lovers Use
4. The Chilterns
5. Thoughts on the Shape of the Human Body

Sara Teasdale Day and Night ("In Warsaw in Poland")

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