The Stars
O stars that dance indifferent in the Abyss,
Our Earth may seem as bright to you beyond ;
Yourselves, to them that breathe your delicate air,
As desolate; Life in the Lunar years
As long ; and the straight rivers of the stars
And primal snows divide as drear a world.
And men, perchance, as we, in every world
Fill with their dreams the bright and vast abyss :
A Christ has died in vain on all the stars.
And each, unhappy, seeks a star beyond
Where God rewards the dead through endless years . . .
And so we circle, dumb, in the silent air.
What shall we find more holy in all the air?
Lo, when the first huge, incandescent world
Burst out of chaos and flamed a million years.
Until, with too much flaming, thro' the abyss
Flake after flake dropped off and flamed beyond:—
That was the God who lit the host of stars!
For Light, the stars; for breath, the realms of air;
For Hope, beyond this dark and suffering world.
Nought in the Abyss, nor ought in the endless years.
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