Stella Thoughts

 

I said to myself, “There’s a star,
“Yet the ordinary man in the street
Will complain of the cold
And go hurrying by
With no eyes for the sky;
And the glory the heavens unfold,
Stretching over around him and far
Beyond black-shouldered hills,
Will be wasted on him for his feet
Hurry him on to the heat
Of a fireside where supper doth wait!”

But I stay, and my heart yearning fills
As I look in the zenith above,
And I seem to be rid of the earth
And rushing on pinions so light
Up into the vasts of the night,
Till there’s nothing around but a space
Where sorrow is not, nor is mirth,
But an awful immensity
And a great silent place;
And the stars grow and grow till they seem
To be more than a pin-point of gleam,
And each is a round world of light,
Terrible in its intensity.

A glance at a street-lamp and then
I am back in the roadway again
With the heavens as far off as ever,
And homeward I go,
Feet heavy and slow.
But that nightly experience will never
Fail me while there burn in the sky
The lamps of the angels on high!

12. 11. 29