A Spell Is Broken

Here where the last star perishes in light

And dreams are ended, let us find our peace.

See how the moon awaits her late release

From watching over us, how from her height

She looks into the dawn to see her bright

Exultant lover come. With the increase

Of glory she is freed. Then let us cease

To rue the dream's inevitable flight.

This is the hour wherein we have no choice

Of losing or retrieving rapture. Here

A spell is broken. And the trees rejoice

To stand in light. Perceiving this, my dear,

Let quietude possess you. Let no voice

Speak bitterness to you, nor grief, nor fear.