I Never See, After Nocturnal Rain, The Wandering Stars Move Through The Air Serene, And Flame Forth 'Twixt The Dew-Fall And The Rime, But I Behold Her Radiant Eyes Wherein My Weary Spirit Findeth Rest From Pain; As Dimmed By Her Rich Veil, I Saw Her The First Time; The Very Heaven Beamed With The Light Sublime Of Their Celestial Beauty; Dewy-Wet Still Do They Shine, And I Am Burning Yet. Now If The Rising Sun I See, I Feel The Light That Hath Enamored Me. Or If He Sets, I Follow Him, When He Bears Elsewhere His Eternal Light, Leaving Behind The Shadowy Waves Of Night.