Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A VISION OF THE STARS, by THOMAS KIBBLE HERVEY


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A VISION OF THE STARS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: For ever gone! The world is growing old!
Last Line: Walk, for one night, amid the hosts of heaven.
Subject(s): Stars


FOR ever gone! the world is growing old!
Gone the bright visions of its untaught youth!
The age of fancy was the age of gold,
And sorrow holds the lamp that lights to truth!
And wisdom writes her records on a page
Whence many a pleasant tale is swept away --
The wild, sweet fables of the dreaming age,
The gorgeous stories of the classic day.
The world is roused from glad and glowing dreams,
Though roused by light awaking still is pain,
And oh! could men renew their broken themes,
Then, would the world at times might sleep again.
Oh for the plains -- the bright and haunted plains --
Where genius wander'd, when the earth was new,
Led by the sound of more than mortal strains,
And gathering flowers of many a vanish'd hue!
The deathless forms that on the lonely hill
Came sweetly gliding to the lonely breast,
Or spoke, in spirit whispers, from the rill
That lull'd the watcher to his mystic rest!
The shapes that met his steps by green and glade,
Or glanced through mid-air, on their gleaming wings;
That hover'd where the young, wild fountains play'd
And hung in rainbows o'er the dancing springs,
Or drew aside the curtains of the sky,
And show'd their starry mansions to his eye!
Oh! the bright tracks by truth from error won!
The price we pay for knowledge, and in vain!
For half the beauty of the world is gone,
Since science built o'er fancy's wild domain!

A dream of beauty! such as came, of old,
To him who came and watch'd the hosts of light,
As one by one their fiery chariots roll'd,
In golden pomp along the vaults of night,
Till another, and another deep
Sent forth a spirit to the shining train,
Their myriad motion rock'd his heart to sleep,
But left bright pictures in the haunted brain,
Where forms grew up, and took the starry eyes
That gleamed upon him from the crowded skies!
A dream like his to whom the boon was given
To read the story of the stars, at will,
And, by the lights they held for him in heaven,
Talk with their lady on the Latmos hill!
A vision of the stars! the moon, to-night --
Her antler'd coursers by the nymph-train driven,
Rides in the chariot of her own sweet light,
To hunt the shadows through the fields of heaven!
And oh! the hunting-grounds of yonder sky,
Whose streams are rainbows, and whose flowers are stars! --
The shapes of light that, as they wander by,
Do spirit homage from their golden cars!
The meteor troop that, as she passes, play
Their fiery gambols in their lady's sight;
And planet-forms that, on her crowded way,
Throw silver incense from their urns of light!
Lo! Perseus, from his everlasting height,
Looks out to see the huntress and her train;
And Love's own planet, in the pale, soft light,
Looks young, as when she rose from out the main!
And, plying all the night, his starry wings,
Up to her throne, the herald of the sky
From many an earthly home and hill-top, brings
The mortal offering of a young heart's sigh!
And round her chariot sail immortal forms,
Or darkly hang about its shining rim;
And, far away, the scared and hunted storms
Leap from their presence, to their caverns dim!
On -- onward, at her own wild fancy led,
Along the cloud-land paths she holds her flight,
Where rears the battle-star his crested head,
And bears his burning falchion through the night!
Where, hand in hand, the brothers of the sky
Sit, like twin angels, or pure heavenward sleep;
While far below, with urns that never dry,
The mourning Hyads hang their heads and weep!
Where brightly dwell in all their early smiles
Ere one was lost -- the sweet and sister seven,
Like blessed spirits, pausing from their toils,
Or some fair family at rest, in heaven.
Where, swifter than her steeds, that never tire --
Some comet-shape -- those couriers of the sky --
In breathless haste, upon his barb of fire,
On some immortal message, rushes by!
O'er the dim heights where, encircled by his train,
And wearing on his brow his sparkling crown,
The planet-monarch holds his ancient reign;
And, from his palace of the clouds, looks down,
With stately presence and a smiling eye
On his bright people of the boundless sky!
Mid northern lights, like fiery flags unfurl'd,
And soft, sweet gales that never reach the world
Mid flaming signs, that perish in their birth,
And ancient orb, that have no name on earth;
Hail'd by the songs of everlasting choirs,
And welcomed from a thousand burning lyres!
Oh! for the ancient dreamer's prophet eye,
To see the hunting grounds of yonder sky;
To hang upon some planet's wheeling car,
And tread the cloud-land paths from star to star;
And climb the heights where old Endymion
Held lofty converse with the lady-moon;
Or, lifted to her chariot of the sky,
Look on its dwellers with a lofty eye,
And throughout its fields, in that bright vision driven,
Walk, for one night, amid the hosts of heaven.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net