I love the night that in long violet shroud 
Slowly and lovingly wraps up the day, 
Hiding its blurred imperfections 
In endless tenderness. 

I love the day's 
High violet cone of light, 
With thin haze on the horizon 
Like a wavering summer sea. 

But most of all I love midsummer dawn, 
When far'off planes of light ascend and tremble together 
Like distant purple waves, the sound of whose dim breaking 
Is lost in the wild babel of awaking birds.