[Written for the Sentinel.]


What whisper you, stars of the eloquent night,What whisper you ever?O listening child, in the language of lightWe whisper of wonderful things unseen,Of blessings that wait, resplendent, serene,To comrade your heart forever.

But pain is my portion, O stars, and grief—Wan loneliness ever!Why gather, O child, the withering leafWhen June at your casement has crimsoned the rose?In fathoms of light come bury your woes,In fathoms of light forever.

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