Classic Poem

Oh , tell me not of mighty wars!
Shut out the world and all its jars;
Leave me with God and the silent stars.

Ah! there ye keep your courses bright,
Old revellers in the hall of Night,
Still looking on us with delight.

Ye in that mystic vault were hung
Ere mortals into being sprung —
Before Greece was, or Homer sung.

At God's command ye rose in space,
Bright beauteous orbs, to gem, to grace
The portals of His dwelling-place!

And priests and prophets, sages hoar,
Look'd up to worship and adore
In that old world which is no more.

Untouch'd by Time, or tempests' shocks,
As bright 's when David led his flocks
Among Judea's rugged rocks.

He gazed on you, as I do now,
With wond'ring heart and anxious brow,
And ask'd the unanswerable, " How? "

We are the lords of but a day;
Ye saw Great Alexander sway
An empire that has passed away.

Where is he? Echo answers, " Where? "
But still ye keep your courses there,
As bright, as beautiful, as fair.

Infinite temple, for no sect
Wert thou so wonderfully deck'd
By the Almighty Architect.

Tho' all those worlds shall cease to be;
Yet, Father, thou hast given to me
The gift of immortality!