II
O silent stars! even as I harken here,
Heart-heavy, a murmurous and mysterious voice,
Blent with sweet wiry tones, on the inward ear
Strikes, and I hear the summons: "O rejoice,
Rejoice and mourn not!" Then that wondrous star
Now drawn near earth,—named for the god of war,—
The fiery planet cries across the night:
"Victory, Victory, he hath won the fight!"
III
O star of fire! he was thy very child!
Mixt with his blood thy fierce, ensanguined ray!
'Gainst the proud forces of the sordid day
He battled valiantly, all unbeguiled
By what might tempt or foil a lesser soul.
Not wealth, nor ease, nor praise unworthily won
Could touch his spirit;—"There the swift course to run!"
"There, there, O see! the bright, immortal goal!"
IV
Thou star of blood and battle! rich and sweet
Thy liquid gleam, where, in the twilight sky,
Thou shinest greatly! So did his art repeat
Thy strength, thy loveliness; thy ministry,—
In a dark, harmful world,—of Beauty's guerdon;—
Beauty that broods, enlightens, and makes endure
The heart of man beneath its heavy burden,
Lifting above the strife a deathless lure.
V
O starry skies! O palpitant winds whose throbbings
From out the vast of heaven pulse and flow!
