The morning star always gets wonderful bright the minute before it has to go,—doesn’t it?

The image of the “morning star” (Venus) flaring brightest just before it disappears at dawn suggests a paradox of endings: what is about to vanish can seem most radiant at the last moment. Wilder often uses everyday celestial or domestic images to frame human transience with tenderness rather than despair. Read this way, the line implies that departures—whether of a person, a phase of life, or a hope—may be preceded by a final intensification: a last surge of beauty, clarity, or meaning. The trailing question (“doesn’t it?”) invites shared recognition, turning the observation into a consoling, communal truth rather than a private lament.