English poem
Hymn To Orion
by Thomas Tod Stoddart (1810–1880)
Orion! old Orion! who dost wait Warder at heaven's star-studded gate, On a throne where worlds might meet At thy silver sandal'd feet, All invisible to thee, Gazing through immensity; For thy crowned head is higher Than the ramparts of earth-searching fire, And the comet his blooded banner, there Flings back upon the waveless air.
Old Orion! holy hands Have knit thy everlasting bands, Belted by the King of kings, Under thy azure-sheathed wings, With a zone of living light, Such as bound the Apostate might, When from highest tower of heaven, His vaunting shape was wrathly driven To its wane, woe-wall'd abode, Rended from the eye of God!
Dost thou, in thy vigils, hail Arcturus on his chariot pale, Leading his sons--a fiery flight-- Over the hollow hill of night? Or tellest of their watches long, To the sleepless, nameless throng, Shoaling in a wond'rous gleam, Like channel through the azure stream Of life reflected, as it flows, In one broad ocean of repose, Gushing from thy lips, Orion! To the holy walls of Zion?
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