In the Northern heavens a gleam of wavering light
Floats upward—dies. Then again—pulsing up, ever stronger,
More bright.
With the first, faint gleam, a shadow of sound—a sigh
As a breath over harp-strings—sets trembling the stars
As it passes through Earth and Sky.
(Too fine for our bodily ears, little sisters, but clear
To the blessed to whom all beauty is one. Only look;
You shall hear!)
Fuller toned now, and deeper, as broadening pennons of light