Classic Poem

Lord of the deeper night, thou lovelier sun!
Whether, in Summer's hour of languid sense
Intently near thou droopest down to earth
Above the beryl inland sea; or, late,
Slow through the nebulous Autumn thy new hope
Lone ventureth up the vague and starless eve;
Or, supreme presence over snows austere,
Thou makest of our world another moon:
Thou in thy silence and untoiling dream
Dost train the tidal reveries of men.

Mysterious consolation! Many worlds
Teem to the solar warmth, and bear, and thrive
With painful growths immense, innumerable;
But through the burthens of that broadcast day
Only our planet learns to wait for thee
And the cool moment of thy fireless flame.

Ours hast thou been—ours whom swift-belting time
Pursueth through vicissitude, defeat,
And fading conquest—since Earth's earliest night:
Steadfast in silence that endureth all,
Changelessly changeful, like our human hope,
Meteor serene beneath whom David sang
In Hereth-wood, remembering Bethlehem!