At Dawn

I have seen at dawn there over the rising hill
An aspect of eternity, fading in and out
When the sun comes up and the evening at its heel.

And before the day and after the eve it is chill,
And my mind goes in and out like the sun about,
Which I have seen at dawn there over the rising hill.

The elements of the heaven's sphere have a zeal,
A ritual devotion in which they are devout
As the sun comes up with the evening at its heel.

There is no doubt there in the infinite wheel,
No tragedy nor comedy in its tilt
That I have seen at dawn there over the rising hill.

The questions are all down here, and they instill
In me a motion harsh, but whose shape is built
Like the sun coming up with the evening at its heel.

This strange consonance is set in my soul as a seal;
A consolation for the formlessness I've felt -
I have seen at dawn there over the rising hill
The sun come up and the evening at its heel.

Featured image: Painting by Thomas Cole (undated, c. 19th century), image in the public domain.

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