VIII.

In grateful admiration, till the Dawn

Withdrew the gleaming curtains of the night,

We watched the whirling systems, until each

Could recognize their own peculiar star;

When, with the swift celerity

Of Fancy-footed Thought,

The light-caparisoned, aërial steeds,

Shod with rare fleetness,

Revisited the farthest of the spheres

Ere the earth's sun had kissed the mountain tops,

Or shook the sea-pearls from his locks of gold.

Still on the Evening Star

Gazed we with steadfast eyes,

As it shone

On its throne

Afar,

In the blue skies.

No longer the charioteers

Dashed through the gleaming spheres;

No more the evangels

Rehearsed the glad story;

But, in passing, the angels

Left footprints of glory:

For up the starry void

Bright-flashing asteroid,

Pale moon and starry choir,

Aided by Fancy's fire,

Rung from the glittering lyre

Changes of song and hymn,

Worthy of Seraphim.

Night's shepherdess sat, queenlike, on her throne,

Watching her starry flocks from zone to zone,

While we, like mortals turned to breathing stone,

Intently pondered on the Known Unknown.