Not night as ours,unhappy folk,Where nigh the Earth in hazy bars,A mist about the springing of the stars,There trails a thin and wandering smoke Obscuring with its veil half -seen The great abysmal still Serene.A globe of dark glass faceted with lightWherein the splendid winds have dusky flight;Untrodden spaces of an odorous plainThat watches for the moon that long has lainAnd caught the meteors' fiery rain=Such there is night.