And here face down beneath the sun
And here upon earth's noonward height
To feel the always coming on
The always rising of the night:
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I heard MacLeish read this when I was eighteen, and it changed my entire appreciation of poetry.
Not an easy, straightforward poem to understand, but still glows with brilliance, including its off-beat title. It takes us on a flight over Eastern countries-Baghdad, Lebanon, Ecbatan; then Crete, Spain and Africa. During the flight, there is light outside, then evening comes on over the sea. I feel as if I am on the flight. Brilliant.