Seen dimly before dawn

Where are you now, you who ran over the moonlit furrow and ruled it?
The thick light throbbing, and the unheard trumpets calling
To what strange battle?

Low muttered words, and things seen dimly before dawn
Informed you then, before the ice-glare of day
Came with its crude clarity

Edward Hopper, Automat, 1927, Des Moines Art Center, Des Moines, Iowa

Chehalis and Other Voices

There was a Door to which I found no Key

There was a Veil past which I could not see

Some little Talk awhile of Me and Thee

There seemed — and then no more of Thee and Me.

(Omar Jayam, Rubaiyat. Trad. Edward FitzGerald, 1859)