Even-Star

First-born and final relic of the night,I dwell aloof in dim immensity;The grey sky sparkles with my fairy light;I mix among the dancers of the sea;Yet stoop not from the throne I must retainHigh o'er the silver sources of the rain.Vicissitude I know not, nor can know,Yet much discern strewed everywhere around;The ever-stirring race of men belowMuch do I watch, and wish I were not boundThe chainless captive of this lonely spot,Where light-winged Mutability is not.I see great cities rise, which being hoarAre slowly rendered unto dust again;And roaring billows preying on the shore;And virgin isles ascending from the main;The passing wave of the perpetual river;And men depart, and man remaining ever.The upturned eyes of many a mortal maidGlass me in gathering tears, soon kissed away;Then walks she for a space, and then is laidSwelling the bosom of the quiet clay.I muse what this all-kindling Love may be,And what this Death that never comes to me.