So may we read, and little find them cold: Not frosty lamps illuminating dead space, Not distant aliens, not senseless Powers. The fire is in them whereof we are born; The music of their motion may be ours.


A Reading of Earth, Meditation under Stars (p. 120), Macmillan & Company Ltd. 1888


So may we read, and little find them cold: Not frosty lamps illuminating dead space, Not distant aliens, not senseless Powers. The fire is in them...

So may we read, and little find them cold: Not frosty lamps illuminating dead space, Not distant aliens, not senseless Powers. The fire is in them...

So may we read, and little find them cold: Not frosty lamps illuminating dead space, Not distant aliens, not senseless Powers. The fire is in them...

So may we read, and little find them cold: Not frosty lamps illuminating dead space, Not distant aliens, not senseless Powers. The fire is in them...