O Miracle! He who in beauty goeth by The marches of the meadowy sky, A-piping on the many reeds His canticle, Paused in His playing; For He found An under-sound Failed of the music that He made. Wild winds went straying, Like sheep lost on the daisied meads-- Scattered by Discord and afraid, Lost from the fold They knew of old. My God had need Of one more reed-- Had need of me To make the perfect harmony. I am that under-sound, That needed note. Eternally the Piper tried Reed after reed until He found Me growing by the river-side, And laughing at the leaves that float Forever down its burnished tide. How frail my body is--how frail And common of its kind; A reed among a field of reeds A-tremble to the wind-- The wind that threshes like a flail Until my body bleeds! Yet through me such wild music blows The Piper laughs among the stars. Know you the Piper? Little scars Burn on His brow, each shoulder shows Wounds of a knotted scourge that fell To hurt Him from the hands of Hell! Welcome, O Wind! All hail, O Pain! One little reed--one little reed, To fill the Piper's far refrain, Is broken till its body bleed; Glad that the Minstrel Lord doth find A tone of His eternal need. ALDEBARAN The minstrel tuned the triple strings-- His harp of many murmurings-- Then on a mighty chord began A song of bright Aldebaran: I Aldebaran, Aldebaran, One night I saw thee rise Above the peaks of Ispahan, Red on those purple skies. Thou wast a royal ruby stone Set in a diadem Of some great god upon his throne, Whose garment's ample hem Was margined with the clustered spheres Beyond a myriad of years. Above thee soared the Pleiades, Beneath, Auriga flared; His vast melodic harmonies Rigel with Algol shared: Space trembled to the minstrelsy Of Deneb and Alcyone. II Aldebaran, Aldebaran, Betelguese sheathed his sword, And in that cosmic cry began The music of his word; He spoke in syllables so strong, Each sentence was an æon long: "Thou art"--he thundered, "the first star To lead earth out of mist, When man looked up and felt afar Urge of an ancient tryst Made ere God lit the morning sun To mark the length of day begun. "Thou threshold of the Zodiac; Thou portal of the Rooms; Thou first step of the starry Track: Thou shuttle of the Looms Where Fate weaves threads of purest gold To fashion God's wide garment-fold-- "Hail!"--and: "All hail!" from every sphere That rolled across the void, I heard, Aldebaran, with fear: Each clustered asteroid Flung back the tumult of that cry, Like trumpet-voices through the sky. III Then Vega rose and on her lyre Played tremulous vast chords, Singing the infinite desire Of those celestial lords Who shouted when earth's loom was laid, And through the warp God's shuttle played;