Nuit

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The all upholding,
The all enfolding,
The all beholding,
 Most secret Night;
From whose abysses,
With wordless blisses,
The Sun's first kisses,
 Called gods to light.

One god undying,
But multiplying,
Restlessly trying,
 Doing: undone.
Through myriad changes,
He sweeps and ranges;
But life estranges
 Many in one.

In wild commotion,
Out of the ocean,
With moan and motion,
 Wave upon waves,
Mingling in thunder,
Rise and go under:
Break, life, asunder;
 Night has her graves.

© Mathilde Blind