English poem
Like oxeye daisies of the field...
by Theodore H. Rand (1835–1900)
Like oxeye daisies of the field . . . . . . . . . . The stars their countless numbers yield In this pure sky of depth unfathomed, Wherein they lay, and so deep, concealed.
Gardens of light, environed fair With tremulous bloom of azure, where All-sweet star-buds unroll their glories In silent dews of etherial air!
O Tiller of the fields of heaven, Gardener of space, by day and even The circling earth, a once fair garden, Lifts up its face for Thy promise given.