    But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight,
    Into a western couch of thunder-cloud;
    And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees
    Didst glide awa Only thine eyes remained;
    They would not go— they never yet have gone;
    Lighting my lonely pathway home that night,
    They have not left me (as my hopes have) since;
    They follow me— they lead me through the year
    They are my ministers — yet I their slav
    Their office is to illumine and enkindle —
    My duty, to be saved by their bright light,
    And purified in their electric fire,
    And sanctified in their elysian fir
    They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope),
    And are far up in Heaven — the stars I kneel to
    In the sad, silent watches of my night;
    While even in the meridian glare of day
    I see them still — two sweetly scintillant
    Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!