The sun was black with judgment, and the moon Blood: but betweenI saw a man stand, saying: 'To me at least The grass is green.'There was no star that I forgot to fear With love and wonder.
The birds have loved me'; but no answer came — Only the thunder.
Once more the man stood, saying: 'A cottage door, Wherethrough I
That instant as I turned — yea,
I am vile; Yet my eyes blazed.'For I had weighed the mountains in a balance, And the skies in a scale,
I come to sell the stars — old lamps for new — Old stars for sale.'Then a calm voice fell all the thunder through, A tone less rough:'Thou hast begun to love one of my works Almost enough.'
