THE STARS.
Make friendship with the stars. Go forth at night, And talk with Aldebaran, where he flames In the cold forehead of the wintry sky. Turn to the sister Pleiades, and ask If there be death in heaven? A blight to fall Upon the brightness of unfrosted hair? A severing of fond hearts? A place of graves? Our sympathies are with you, stricken stars, Clustering so closely round the lost one's place. Too well we know the hopeless toil to hide The chasm in love's fond circle. The lone seat Where the meek grandsire, with his silver locks, Reclined so happily; the fireside chair Whence the fond mother fled; the cradle turn'd Against the wall, and empty; well we know The untold anguish, when some dear one falls. How oft the life-blood trickling from our hearts Reveals a kindred spirit torn away! Tears are our birth-right, gentle sister train, And more we love you, if like us ye mourn.
Ho! bold Orion, with thy lion-shield; What tidings from the chase? what monster slain?
