THE night of sleep is always near, Where human stars go out and in; And this of mine, that's waxing there, Wanes to the daylight dust and din. But the soft pulses, felt afar, Of childhood's half-reluctant rest, Still leave the little earthly star To throb upon a human breast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CAROL: NEW STYLE by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET TO-MORROW TO FRESH WOODS AND PASTURES NEW' by AMY LOWELL |