Classic Poem

There is a star in yonder sky,
Above all stars it seems to shine,
'Tis long since first it fixed my eye,
And I have learned to call it mine.

It rose out of my own blue sea,
Then passed above those mountains green,
Moving all placidly,
As if it loved to watch the scene.

Far up the heavens it floated slow,
Gleaming across yon solemn tower,
As if it loved the scene below;—
A willing lingerer hour by hour.

It seemed to take its place each night,
As sentinel to guard my rest,
An eye of love and gentle light,
Pouring sweet thoughts into my breast.

In through my lattice as I lay
Half soothed to sleep, it nightly shone,
And as I gazed upon its ray
I felt that I was not alone.

What tears that gentle star has dried,
What joy that sparkling orb has given;
Thoughts for this earth too high, too wide,
Dreams of its own all-radiant heaven.

It spoke of day beyond this night,
In the glad land where all is fair;
It pointed to the home of light,
And bid me rest my spirit there.

It spoke of Him whose love is light,
Whose death is life, whose cross is peace,
Whose favor is the star of night,
The source and pledge of endless bliss.

May I not love that star on high?
May not its light the fairest seem?
May I not trace a loving eye,
A kindly smile in every beam?