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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472600" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Secret Of The Stars</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is man's the only throbbing heart that hides<br>The silent spring that feeds its whispering tides?<br>Speak from thy caverns, mystery-breeding Earth,<br>Tell the half-hinted story of thy birth,<br>And calm the noisy champions who have thrown<br>The book of types against the book of stone!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Have ye not secrets, ye refulgent spheres,<br>No sleepless listener of the starlight hears?<br>In vain the sweeping equatorial pries<br>Through every world-sown corner of the skies,<br>To the far orb that so remotely strays<br>Our midnight darkness is its noonday blaze;<br>In vain the climbing soul of creeping man<br>Metes out the heavenly concave with a span,<br>Tracks into space the long-lost meteor's trail,<br>And weighs an unseen planet in the scale;<br>Still o'er their doubts the wan-eyed watchers sigh,<br>And Science lifts her still unanswered cry<br>'Are all these worlds, that speed their circling flight,<br>Dumb, vacant, soulless,--baubles of the night?<br>Warmed with God's smile and wafted by his breath,<br>To weave in ceaseless round the dance of Death?<br>Or rolls a sphere in each expanding zone,<br>Crowned with a life as varied as our own?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Maker of earth and stars! If thou hast taught<br>By what thy voice hath spoke, thy hand hath wrought,<br>By all that Science proves, or guesses true,<br>More than thy poet dreamed, thy prophet knew,--<br>The heavens still bow in darkness at thy feet,<br>And shadows veil thy cloud-pavilioned seat!<br>Not for ourselves we ask thee to reveal<br>One awful word beneath the future's seal;<br>What thou shalt tell us, grant us strength to bear;<br>What thou withholdest is thy single care.<br>Not for ourselves; the present clings too fast,<br>Moored to the mighty anchors of the past;<br>But when, with angry snap, some cable parts,<br>The sound re-echoing in our startled hearts,--<br>When, through the wall that clasps the harbor round,<br>And shuts the raving ocean from its bound,<br>Shattered and rent by sacrilegious hands,<br>The first mad billow leaps upon the sands,--<br>Then to the Future's awful page we turn,<br>And what we question hardly dare to learn.<br>Still let us hope! for while we seem to tread<br>The time-worn pathway of the nations dead,<br>Though Sparta laughs at all our warlike deeds,<br>And buried Athens claims our stolen creeds,<br>Though Rome, a spectre on her broken throne,<br>Beholds our eagle and recalls her own,<br>Though England fling her pennons on the breeze<br>And reign before us Mistress of the seas,--<br>While calm-eyed History tracks us circling round<br>Fate's iron pillar where they all were bound,<br>Still in our path a larger curve she finds,<br>The spiral widening as the chain unwinds<br>Still sees new beacons crowned with brighter flame<br>Than the old watch-fires, like, but not the same<br>No shameless haste shall spot with bandit-crime<br>Our destined empire snatched before its time.<br>Wait,--wait, undoubting, for the winds have caught<br>From our bold speech the heritage of thought;<br>No marble form that sculptured truth can wear<br>Vies with the image shaped in viewless air;<br>And thought unfettered grows through speech to deeds,<br>As the broad forest marches in its seeds.<br>What though we perish ere the day is won?<br>Enough to see its glorious work begun!<br>The thistle falls before a trampling clown,<br>But who can chain the flying thistle-down?<br>Wait while the fiery seeds of freedom fly,<br>The prairie blazes when the grass is dry!<br>What arms might ravish, leave to peaceful arts,<br>Wisdom and love shall win the roughest hearts;<br>So shall the angel who has closed for man<br>The blissful garden since his woes began<br>Swing wide the golden portals of the West,<br>And Eden's secret stand at length confessed!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">. . . . . . . . . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The reader paused; in truth he thought it time,--<br>Some threatening signs accused the drowsy rhyme.<br>The Mistress nodded, the Professor dozed,<br>The two Annexes sat with eyelids closed,--<br>Not sleeping,--no! But when one shuts one's eyes,<br>That one hears better no one, sure, denies.<br>The Doctor whispered in Delilah's ear,<br>Or seemed to whisper, for their heads drew near.<br>Not all the owner's efforts could restrain<br>The wild vagaries of the squinting brain,--<br>Last of the listeners Number Five alone<br>The patient reader still could call his own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Teacups, arouse!' 'T was thus the spell I broke;<br>The drowsy started and the slumberers woke.<br>'The sleep I promised you have now enjoyed,<br>Due to your hour of labor well employed.<br>Swiftly the busy moments have been passed;<br>This, our first 'Teacups,' must not be our last.<br>Here, on this spot, now consecrated ground,<br>The Order of 'The Teacups' let us found!<br>By winter's fireside and in summer's bower<br>Still shall it claim its ever-welcome hour,<br>In distant regions where our feet may roam<br>The magic teapot find or make a home;<br>Long may its floods their bright infusion pour,<br>Till time and teacups both shall be no more!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472600" data-title="The Secret Of The Stars de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="Is man's the only throbbing heart that hides The silent spring that feeds its whispering tides? Speak from thy caverns, mystery-breeding Earth, Tell the half-hinted story of thy birth, And calm the noisy champions who have thrown The book of types..."></div> </div> </div>
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