Hesperus

Down in the street the last late hansoms go
  Still westward, but with backward eyes of red
  The harlot shuffles to her lonely bed;
The tall policeman pauses but to throw
A flash into the empty portico;
  Then he too passes, and his lonely tread
  Links all the long-drawn gas-lights on a thread
And ties them to one planet swinging low.
O Hesperus! O happy star! to bend
  O'er Helen's bosom in the trancèd west--
  To watch the hours heave by upon her breast
And at her parted lip for dreams attend:
  If dawn defraud thee, how shall I be deem'd.
  Who house within that bosom, and am dreamed?