TO A COMET.
O thou uncanny, fearful thing!
A flaming sword art thou;
Thou may’st be sent by demon’s hand
Among the stars to plough.
Thou’st travelled on for many years,
And still must travel on.
Thy master’s bidding thou must do
Until the victory’s won.
Sometime perhaps thy anger fierce
No more will burn in wrath.
Thou’lt gently fall upon the earth,
Leave blessings in thy path.
Thou art a mystery now to us,
Thy life may be divine—
Although it seems that demons black
Hath part in life like thine.