MIDNIGHT THOUGHTS.
The heavens display thy glory, Lord of life!
And the clear firmament, as with a tongue
That ceaseless speaks, proclaims to earth—to man—
Thy wondrous power—the everlasting theme
From day to day, from night to night renewed.
The night is deep, and ocean sleeps in calm;
The winds are hushed, and with them hushed awhile
The storm in human breasts.—Look on the heavens!
Disturbed by fitful clouds, which recent winds
Have torn and flung in fleecy whiteness there,
I see amid the desert waste of blue,
Bright stars, which gleam with interrupted light.
Beautiful stars! yet, though careering now
Triumphant through illimitable space
With lustre unsubdued—ye fail at last!—
The time must come, when from your glorious orbs
The Eternal shall withdraw the kindling look
That feeds your living fires—and all these suns,
Extinct at once—shall perish! Thou Boötes,
Brightest of all that walk the beamy North!
Sunken and pale—thy golden car o’erturned,
Shalt set in night! and Sirius, who dost shine
In bright Orion’s train!—Ye Pleiades,—
Who on your silver path majestic rise,
Hymning your chorus to celestial ears,
Your melody must cease!—Thou, radiant Ship,
Which round and round the firmament, on high
Hung like a sea, from immemorial time
Hast sailed,—shalt sink, in waves of darkness whelmed.
And thou, lone watcher of the ancient Pole,—
Who through unnumbered years hast held unmoved
Thy seat in Heaven, and marked the birth and death
Of kindred worlds—shalt quit thy station too!
The seaman’s guide no more! All fade away!
And I, who gaze upon your glories now,
Desponding and afar, must I too share
The darkness of your ruin?—No—these powers
Though shrouded, were not given to fail with yours!
They live—to vaster and to loftier life
For ever swelling—when your orbs shall pass
Unheeded to the chaos whence they sprung.