The sun had newly quit
the darkening western sky
before Day, faint sighing,
yielded place to Night
Where Morpheus rules
and Earth, uneasy, lay
On her atmospheric couch,
She quivers and whispers pain
for she is big with child.
Throughout the Night
the throbbing fullness
of her chthonic womb
denies her sleep or even rest;
Her sister Phoebe’s pale rays
light up her patient mien
on which the cool air of Night
distils silent silver streams that sweat
At last as Matuta rises
the fairy ring unpeoples,
the harsh convulsions cease
and the new birth now is done.
(c) Adam Dowell
.