The stars like bells flash down the silver sky,
Taking the valleys with a holy glowing light,
And ringing like chimes on frozen trees, to cry
Along the marble ground of the iron night.
Solid are the stars and solid the world and hills,
Locked in frozen chains and dappled snow;
Fields of steel, as beautiful as daffodils,
As moonlight flecks, deceiving them with glow.
The sky is full of flowers, white and pure,
And near, the sea rocks ribbons to the sand
Bubbles full of stars are there and the moon's hull
No nightingale gives whistle on the shore
But yet God laughs along the shingle strand,
Making death itself seem marvelously beautiful.
