VIII.

In grateful admiration, till the Dawn Withdrew the gleaming curtains of the night, We watched the whirling systems, until each Could recognize their own peculiar star; When, with the swift celerity Of Fancy-footed Thought, The light-caparisoned, aërial steeds, Shod with rare fleetness, Revisited the farthest of the spheres Ere the earth's sun had kissed the mountain tops, Or shook the sea-pearls from his locks of gold.

Still on the Evening Star Gazed we with steadfast eyes, As it shone On its throne Afar, In the blue skies. No longer the charioteers Dashed through the gleaming spheres; No more the evangels Rehearsed the glad story; But, in passing, the angels Left footprints of glory:

For up the starry void Bright-flashing asteroid, Pale moon and starry choir, Aided by Fancy's fire, Rung from the glittering lyre Changes of song and hymn, Worthy of Seraphim. Night's shepherdess sat, queenlike, on her throne, Watching her starry flocks from zone to zone, While we, like mortals turned to breathing stone, Intently pondered on the Known Unknown.