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. 
 
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