The late wind failed; high on the hill
The pine's resounding boughts were still:
Those wondrous airs that space had lent
To wail earth's nightlong banishment
From heat and light and song of day
In a last sighing died away.

Alone in the muteness, lost and small,
I watch'd far-off Leo fall
An ebbing trail of silvery dust,
And fade to naught; while near and far,
Glittered in quiet star to star;
And dream'd, in midnight's dim immense,
Heavens universal innocence.

O transient heart that yet can raise
To the unseen its pang of praise,
And from the founts in play above
Be fresh'd with that sweet love!