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��THE LOST SKY.
THE LOST SKY.
WISH I knew That the blessed blue We have learned to call the sky Was a real dome Over this earth home, Steadfast and strong and high.
I would rather think
Little stars that blink Are hung in a strong roof sure
By a tether fast,
So a cloud swung past Can no shining ship unmoor.
I should like to feel
That the sun s great wheel Brushes close to the arching wall,
And the shooting star
Need not travel far If it fears, at the last, to fall.
Only ether blue
Dimming through and through Nor a shore for a thought adrift,
Not a spar to clutch,
Not a line to touch, Where the planets white wings lift.
Only pale air rolled, Till its misty fold
�� �
