Alone in the night

On a dark hill

With pines all around me

Spicy and still,


And a heaven full of stars

Over my head,

White and topaz

And misty red;


Myriads with beating

Hearts of fire

That aeons

Cannot vex or tire;


Up the dome of heaven

Like a great hill,

I watch them marching

Stately and still,


And I know that I

Am honored to be


Of so much majesty.


Sara Teasdale