THE STAR.
A bright, lonely star
In the dark heavens played,
And it seemed from afar
Like a thing that had strayed;
For it seemed to disown,
In my fancy's wild play,
The bright things that shone
In their myriad array.
Oh, I love the bright star!
For it whispers to me—
Though the clouds be my car,
Still I watch over thee.
Thou art dear to my heart,
Oh, sweet vision of night!
My life is a part
Of thy being bright.
In the dark heavens played,
And it seemed from afar
Like a thing that had strayed;
For it seemed to disown,
In my fancy's wild play,
The bright things that shone
In their myriad array.
Oh, I love the bright star!
For it whispers to me—
Though the clouds be my car,
Still I watch over thee.
Thou art dear to my heart,
Oh, sweet vision of night!
My life is a part
Of thy being bright.
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