The Stars

HE terrible tranquillity of space!

My soul shrinks back in sudden doubt.

I

The myriad eyes that through the ether peer,

And chill the arrogance that dared to

The grave enigma of the cosmic face.

Yet through the soundless night a voice austere —"We that you deem afar are small and near;

With lowly things and humble we have place;

We are but smoke that from a burnt Past rears;

The idle spray God's prow flings in its

Through wider waters; the mere dust that

From his vast chariot-wheels as on He whirls;

The futile sparks that from His anvil leap;

Or drifting seeds, pregnant of larger spheres."