The Day undressed—Herself—
Her Garter—was of Gold
Her Petticoat—of Purple plain
Her Dimities—as old

Exactly—as the World
And yet the newest Star
Enrolled upon the Hemisphere
Be wrinkled—much as Her—

Too near to God—to pray
Too near to Heaven—to fear
The Lady of the Occident
Retired without a care—

Her Candle so expire
The flickering be seen
On Ball of Mast in Bosporus—
And Dome—and Window Pane—