AT even, when the roseate deeps
  Of daylight dim from heaven's bars,
The soul her earth-worn garment slips,
  And naked stands beneath the stars;

And there unto that river vast,
  That mighty tide of night, whose girth
With splendid planets, brimming past,
  Doth wash the ancient rim of earth,

She comes and plunges in; and laves
  Her weariness in that vast tide,
That life-renewing deep, whose waves
  Are wide as night is wide.

Then from the pure, translucent flow
  Of that unplumed, invigorate sea,
God-like, in truth's white spirit-glow,
  She stands, unshamed and free.