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Poems

By Alfred Domett
  
  

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A STARRY NIGHT.
  
  
  
  
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A STARRY NIGHT.

[_]

(FROM THE SAME.)

He looked on the stars—and with something of joy—
But mingled and mellowed with mournful alloy;
He saw them shining brightly on high,
Brightly in the distant sky;
The sky that seemed so darkly blue
But to add brightness to their hue—
The sky that seemed so softly calm
But to increase their soothing charm!
He looked—and he thought how they come and go—
Unmarking, unmoved by what passes below;
Happily twinkling—happily burning—
Still calmly departing—still brightly returning!
He turned to earth, and looked around—
And he felt like a grovelling worm on the ground;

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He felt as if that were his proper sphere—
He felt as if left by all he held dear—
It was so dark and so dismally drear!
The very sky, as the earth it neared,
Dark and deep in gloom appeared!
So he turned him again to the regions of light,
With their myriads on myriads gathering bright—
Strange! That all brightness and peace should be there.
And nothing but sorrow and darkness here