“And with joy the stars perform their shining,
And the sea its long-silvered roll;
For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting
All the fever of some differing soul.
“Rounded by themselves, and unregardful
In what state God’s other works may be,
In their own tasks all their powers pouring,
These attain the mighty life you see.”
O air-born voice! long since, severely clear,
A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear;