Ye Stars! which are the poetry of Heaven!

If in your bright leaves we would read the fate

Of men and empires,—'tis to be forgiven,

That in our aspirations to be great,

Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state,

And claim a kindred with you; for ye are

A Beauty and a Mystery, and create

In us such love and reverence from afar,

That Fortune,—Fame,—Power,—Life, have named themselves a Star.[331]