But thee, of even the starry train;
For all the host around thee burning,
Like faithless man, keep turning, turning.
“I may not follow where they go:—
Star of the North! I look to thee
While on I press; for well I know,
Thy light and truth shall set me free:—
Thy light, that no poor slave deceiveth;
Thy truth, that all my soul believeth.
“Thy beam is on the glassy breast