Classic Poem

PRELUDE .

The Stars are heaven's ministers;
 Right royally they teach
God's glory and omnipotence,
 In wondrous lowly speech.
All eloquent with music as
 The tremblings of a lyre,
To him that hath an ear to hear
 They speak in words of fire.

Not to learnèd sagas only
 Their whisperings come down;
The monarch is not glorified
 Because he wears a crown.
The humblest soldier in the camp
 Can win the smile of Mars,
And 'tis the lowliest spirits hold
 Communion with the stars.

Thoughts too refined for utterance,
 Ethereal as the air,
Crowd through the brain's dim labyrinths,
 And leave their impress there;
As far along the gleaming void
 Man's tender glances roll,
Wonder usurps the throne of speech,
 But vivifies the soul.

Oh, heaven-cradled mysteries,
 What sacred paths ye've trod—
Bright, jewelled scintillations from
 The chariot-wheels of God!
When in the spirit He rode forth,
 With vast creative aim,
These were His footprints left behind,
 To magnify His name!

We gazed on the Evening Star,
 Mary and I,
 As it shone
 On its throne
Afar,
 In the blue sky;
Shone like a ransomed soul
In the depths of that quiet heaven;
 Like a pearly tear,
 Trembling with fear
On the pallid cheek of Even.

And I thought of the myriad souls
Gazing with human eyes
 On the light of that star,
 Shining afar,
In the quiet evening skies;
 Some with winged hope,
 Clearing the cope
Of heaven as swift as light,
 Others, with souls
 Blind as the moles,
Sinking in rayless night.

Dreams such as dreamers dream
 Flitted before our eyes;
Beautiful visions!—
Angelo's, Titian's,
 Had never more gorgeous dyes:
We soared with the angels
 Through vistas of glory,
We heard the evangels
 Relate the glad story
 Of the beautiful star,
 Shining afar
 In the quiet evening skies.

And we gazed and dreamed,
Till our spirits seemed
 Absorbed in the stellar world;
Sorrow was swallowed up,
Drained was the bitter cup
Of earth to the very lees;
And we sailed over seas
 Of white vapour that whirled
 Through the skies afar,
Angels our charioteers,
Threading the endless spheres,
And to the chorus of angels
Rehearsed the evangels
 The Birth of the Evening Star.