Gone now! All gone across the dark so far,
    Sharpening fast, shuddering ever, shutting still,
Dwindling into the distance, dies that star
    Which came, stood, opened once! We gazed our fill
With upturned faces on as real a Face
    That, stooping from grave music and mild fire,
Took in our homage, made a visible place
    Through many a depth of glory, gyre on gyre,
For the dim human tribute. Was this true?
    Could man indeed avail, mere praise of his,
To help by rapture God’s own rapture too,
    Thrill with a heart’s red tinge that pure pale bliss?
Why did it end? Who failed to beat the breast,
    And shriek, and throw the arms protesting wide,
When a first shadow showed the star addressed
    Itself to motion, and on either side
The rims contracted as the rays retired;
    The music, like a fountain’s sickening pulse,
Subsided on itself; awhile transpired
    Some vestige of a Face no pangs convulse,
No prayers retard; then even this was gone,
    Lost in the night at last. We, lone and left
Silent through centuries, ever and anon
    Venture to probe again the vault bereft
Of all now save the lesser lights, a mist
    Of multitudinous points, yet suns, men say—
And this leaps ruby, this lurks amethyst,
    But where may hide what came and loved our clay?
How shall the sage detect in yon expanse
    The star which chose to stoop and stay for us?
Unroll the records! Hailed ye such advance
    Indeed, and did your hope evanish thus?
Watchers of twilight, is the worst averred?
    We shall not look up, know ourselves are seen,
Speak, and be sure that we again are heard,
    Acting or suffering, have the disk’s serene
Reflect our life, absorb an earthly flame,
    Nor doubt that, were mankind inert and numb,
Its core had never crimsoned all the same,
    Nor, missing ours, its music fallen dumb?
Oh, dread succession to a dizzy post,
    Sad sway of sceptre whose mere touch appals,
Ghastly dethronement, cursed by those the most
    On whose repugnant brow the crown next falls!