Chapter I

I woke in the night, and the darkness was heavy and deep: I had known it was dark in my sleep, And I rose and looked out, And the fathomless vault was all sparkling, set thick round about With the ancient inhabiters silent, and wheeling too far For man's heart, like a voyaging frigate, to sail, where remote In the sheen of their glory they float, Or man's soul, like a bird, to fly near, of their beams to partake, And dazed in their wake, Drink day that is born of a star. I murmured, "Remoteness and greatness, how deep you are set, How afar in the rim of the whole; You know nothing of me, nor of man, nor of earth, O, nor yet Of our light-bearer,--drawing the marvellous moons as they roll, Of our regent, the sun." I look on you trembling, and think, in the dark with my soul, "How small is our place 'mid the kingdoms and nations of God: These are greater than we, every one." And there falls a great fear, and a dread cometh over, that cries, "O my hope! Is there any mistake? Did He speak? Did I hear? Did I listen aright, if He spake? Did I answer Him duly? For surely I now am awake, If never I woke until now." And a light, baffling wind, that leads nowhither, plays on my brow. As a sleep, I must think on my day, of my path as untrod, Or trodden in dreams, in a dreamland whose coasts are a doubt; Whose countries recede from my thoughts, as they grope round about, And vanish, and tell me not how. Be kind to our darkness, O Fashioner, dwelling in light, And feeding the lamps of the sky; Look down upon this one, and let it be sweet in Thy sight, I pray Thee, to-night. O watch whom Thou madest to dwell on its soil, Thou Most High! For this is a world full of sorrow (there may be but one); Keep watch o'er its dust, else Thy children for aye are undone, For this is a world where we die.