53
THE STARS.
H! see another world roll slowly on?Oh! can it be that yon faint sparkling orb
Is some vast globe like this, some circling sphere,
From chaos called to be the glad abode
Of living, breathing millions? framed perchance
With all that most delights or thrills the heart
In Nature's wonders; mountain heights sublime,
The waving forest, and the rushing stream;
Each scene of calm repose or awful power,
Which here enchants the eye, or lifts the soul
To commune with Eternity, and feel
The nothingness of man compared to Him
Who framed them all? Oh, wondrous thought, to feel
Yon trembling spark upon the midnight sky—
Yon star—contains the same. Nor it alone,
For lo! fast starting from the dark blue depths
Of ether's boundless sea, unnumbered orbs
Now brightly cluster o'er the brow of Night,
And gem her dark expanse with drops of gold,—
Worlds rise on worlds. What human eye can scan,
What finite mind can grasp the wondrous whole?
Yet there they shine,—and countless as the tears
Which Evening weeps upon the glistening plain,
