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Dark of the Moon

Arcturus in Autumn

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When, in the gold October dusk, I saw you near to setting, Arcturus, bringer of spring, Lord of the summer nights, leaving us now in autumn, Having no pity on our withering; Oh then I knew at last that my own autumn was upon me, I felt it in my blood, Restless as dwindling streams that still remember The music of their flood. There in the thickening dark a wind-bent tree above me Loosed its last leaves in flight— I saw you sink and vanish, pitiless Arcturus, You will not stay to share our lengthening night.

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