The morning sky’s cloudy variety,
The horizon’s depth of yellow
With a mass of lights and darks nearer and slowly moving,
A painting filling the window,
Is the sacred work of the last star,
Beauty too close to be too far.
I took my trip around the universe
To make all past trips
Seem but a prelude
To an orbit which never says goodbye,
And found a light lighting a last star,
Beauty too close to be too far.
With the beautiful sequence
Of flowers and green streams of leaves
In dark woods too shadowy
For vanity to spot itself in dappled paths,
I put myself in the power of a last star,
Beauty too close to be too far.
Unlikely beauty! With hair
Half-covering the face with eyes
Almost too nice for a mouth surprised
By lips of a faint luxury,
A lamp turned slightly down within—
As if she and star were kin!
A light glowing like a last star:
Beauty too close to be too far.
