Stygian, huh?
I can fix that for you.
To Day
Darkness, made the more profound,
By silence, whose husbanded sound,
Has stretched the firmament of stilled air,
Until it almost seems about to tear...
Then worn and tattered threadbare night,
Whose shivering stars have tithed their meager light,
Surrenders to a youthful sun to rouse up all the dew,
As elder brethren go to sleep, all blanketed in blue.
...
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . October 8, 2005
The blessing of day ferrets out the dark and pours its radiance upon our furrowed brows.
Lovely. Thank you.