In Habbanan beneath the skies
Where all roads end however long
There is a sound of faint echoes
And distant echoes of a song,
For there men gather into rings
Round their red fires while one voice sings –
And all about is night
(And all about is night).

Not night as ours, unhappy folk,
Where nigh the Earth in hazy bars,
mist about the springing of the stars,
There trails a thin and wandering smoke
Obscuring with its veil half-seen
The great abysmal still Serene.

globe of dark glass faceted with light
Wherein the splendid winds have dusky flight;
Untrodden spaces of an odorous plain
That watches for the moon that long has lain
And caught the meteors' fiery rain –
Such there is night.

...and caught the meteors' fiery rain
If I am dead and gone, would you remain...