Till the songs of birds rang clearer     And the sunshine shone more rare, And the moon above the meadows     Gathered love, and left it there; And the swaying stars rose whiter—     And the World was very fair: As your thoughts’ eternal fountains,     Shot with iridescent gleams, Floating down through glades enchanted,     On the breast of faery streams, To a pearl-strewn bay of beryl—     Reached the haven of our dreams. TO A LITTLE GIRL. Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one,     Said Heaven was a hundred, million, billion miles away. So I couldn’t contradict them—it wouldn’t do at all—     But they had never heard your laughter innocent and gay. Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one,     They said the Milky Way was fair beyond all human ken: But they had never seen your face, upturned, aquestioning—     A dainty bit of rapture in a leaden world o’ men. Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one,     They told of gorgeous comets and their manes so bright and rare: But comet glow could never show the living threads of light     That dance and gleam in th’ rippling stream and fragrance of         your hair. Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one,     They said the azure ether stretched in miles of lapis hue; But they had never known eyes that gaze into your soul     In longing little wonder wells of limpid gray and blue. Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one,     They said no melody could match the singing of the spheres: But they had never heard your voice ring joyously at play—     The music of a weary world of roil and toil and tears. Flammarion and Kelvin and Herschel every one.     They’ve told the tale of the double stars, and their faith the         eons through— But constant though they be, their hearts could never know the love,     The yearning burning tender love, dear child, we bear for you. GOD. I They would give hands to Thee, head to Thee, feet to Thee—             They who are blind: They would give form to Thee, fashion Thee manikin,             After their kind. They would give hate to Thee, spite to Thee, jealousy—             Thou the adored: Only have fear in Thee, only repel Thee,             Master and Lord. They would bring shame to Thee, even in worship—             Each empty rite: Bigotry, canting and sere superstition,             Knowing no light. Faiths esoteric, pedantic and recondite—             Mystical creeds: False and insipid and brutal and selfish—             And wrought to their needs. They whom Ye nurtured from primal conceiving,             And ne’er a flaw— They know Thee not, or in knowing, reject Thee,             Thee and Thy law. Saying, "We see Thee not, come to us, speak to us—             Tangible stand. Come in the purple, crowned, robed and resplendent—             Sceptre in hand.