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148
A STAR.
The moon lies still beneath the trees,
And silver-spots the sleeping moss,
And touches with a ghostly gloss
The leaves unwakened by the breeze.
And silver-spots the sleeping moss,
And touches with a ghostly gloss
The leaves unwakened by the breeze.
A silence as of myriad swoons
Drives in my feelings to their deeps,
Where still more awful silence sleeps,
Mid lights more ghostly than the moon's.
Drives in my feelings to their deeps,
Where still more awful silence sleeps,
Mid lights more ghostly than the moon's.
149
From th' eastward, through a leafy rent,
Flashes across the moony sleep
One star upon my inmost deep,
Voicing the silence therein pent.
Flashes across the moony sleep
One star upon my inmost deep,
Voicing the silence therein pent.
With holy glances, diamond-hued,
About my flickering lights it winds,
And all my finite tossings binds
To fixtures of infinitude.
About my flickering lights it winds,
And all my finite tossings binds
To fixtures of infinitude.
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