Songs of the Spirit

Of ibex that behold on high Night’s funeral, And see the pale moon quiver and depart Far beyond space, the sun ascend And draw earth’s globe unto his heart To make an end ; The shriek of startled birds ; the sobs that tear With sudden terror the sharp sea That slept, and wove its golden hair Most mournfully ; The rending of the earth at his command Who wields the wrath of heaven, and is dumb ; Hell starts up—and before his hand Is overcome. It heard these voices, and beheld afar These dread works wrought at his behest : And on his forehead, lo ! a star, And on his breast. 87