Floats up to the burning stars.
O it’s heat—heat—heat—
Till the heart throbs hot,
And dust, till the eyes grow dim,
And the fire-brands burn in the eyeball’s clot
And whirl while the sockets swim.
The white shafts shoot from the furnaced West
As bolts from a blazing gun,
And again from the East like a blood-red beast
Bursts out the burnished sun.