Their hoofs1 heavy with tumult2， their eyes glimmering3 white；
The North unfolds above them clinging， creeping night，
The East her hidden joy before the morning break，
The West weeps in pale dew and sighs passing away，
The South is pouring down roses of crimson4 fire：
O vanity of Sleep， Hope， Dream， endless Desire，
The Horses of Disaster plunge5 in the heavy clay：
Beloved， let your eyes half close， and your heart beat
Over my heart， and your hair fall over my breast，
Drowning loves lonely hour in deep twilight6 of rest，
And hiding their tossing manes and their tumultuous feet.
