TO-NIGHT
When the stars gather in beauty to-night.
Glorious, love-litten—a heaven in bloom—
Somewhere, astray, in a sorrowful plight,
Earth will be dreamingly toiling towards doom;
And the myriads at rest
On her storm-stricken breast.
Rocked into dreams, will be never afraid
Tho' stars marching over and stars streaming under,
Filling the deep with a pageant of wonder.
Guard and attend her with godlike parade.
When the stars gather in splendor to-night,
Darkness, O Planet, will cover thy face—
Death-ridden darkness, in shapes that affright,
Black with the curses that blacken our race!
And the mist, like the ghost,
Of a hope that is lost,
Strangely will hover o'er fields that are bare;
And the seas, at whose heart the old sorrow is throbbing
Restless and hopeless, eternally sobbing—
Madly will kneel in a tempest of prayer.
When the stars gather in armor, to-night.
Planet of wailing, thy fate shall be read!
Steal like a nun under scourge from their sight,
Gather thy sorrows, like robes, to thy head!
For the vestal white rose
Of the crystalline snows
Coldly has sealed thee to silence unblessed;
And the red rose is dead in thy gardens of pleasure—
Forests, like princes bereft of all treasure.
Rise and upbraid thee, skeleton jest!
When the stars gather in vengeance to-night,
Gibbering history, too, will arise,
Rustling her garments of mildew and blight.
Only to curse thee. O mother of lies!
With thy goblet all drained,
And thy wanton lip stained—
Singing wild songs where all ruin appears—
What shalt thou say of this dust that was glory.
Dust that beseeches thes still with a story,
Deep in whose silence are rivers of tears?
