Page:Three stories by Vítězslav Hálek (1886).pdf/133

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Evening Songs.
17

How the universe is but a song
From the bosom of nature springing,
And how weak is the echo in human hearts
Of the star music round us ringing.

XXV.

Those stars who scattered through the sky
With their own beauty strew it,
Look fondly down as they would fain
Have called me to it.


Ah! no ye little twinkling stars
Yours be the circling heaven,
Dearer to me this earth—its joys
And woes—earth’s leaven.


Ye have no notion, ’lovéd stars,
Through your chill ether racing,
How fair a heaven unfolds o’er earth
At love’s embracing.

XXVI.

I know not whether it were dream or no,
But still in memory linger night’s creations,
How on the judgment page of Ged I gazed
And read the fate of nations.


Thoughts weighty as the mind of God himself
Above his head a hundredfold were streaming,
And beauteous as a star-lit night of spring
O’er his fair body gleaming.