CONSUELO.
When, from the countless stars
That gem the azure vault above,
One flames and dies
Across our skies,
We mourn so bright a light
Is lost to sight;
And then—one brighter comes in view.
In trackless wastes
Our stars point true,
And, dying,
Ever thus renew.
When, from the countless homes
That deck this earth of ours,
One altar fire
Flames but to expire,
We mourn a loved hearth
So lost to earth;
And then—we build a new.
Wandering the world,
Our hearth-fires woo,
And, dying,
Ever thus renew.