Trembling on heaven’s pinnacles to-night,
Is lifted your sad face of love while you
Stare upward toward me, staring upward, too,
At that faint flame which is your home, between
The leafy branches of these poplars seen—
So hushed, so far! Perhaps to-night you scan
Your starry heaven for the star of Man,
High in the trellis of eternity
And glittering arches hung; perhaps like me
You, too, look up and wonder. Is it fair,