Le Soir + 

Mute-lipped⁠— + 

unquestioning grim-visaged Fate, + 

I cleave the shadows toward the Western Gate; + 

And yet⁠— + 

my lagging heart still holds + 

Mute-arms outstretched + 

Unto earth’s gleaming folds. + 

Who knows? + 

perhaps Hope’s blossoms spray + 

In lush profusion + 

O’er the edge of day! + 