Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/117

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THE CONSTELLATIONS.
On gleaming wings, the Dolphin gliding onWith glistening scales, and that poetic steed,With beamy mane, whose hoof struck out from earthThe fount of Hippocrene, and many more,Fair clustered splendors, with whose rays the NightShall close her march in glory, ere she yield,To the young Day, the great earth steeped in dew. So spake the monitor, and I perceivedHow vain were my repinings, and my thoughtWent backward to the vanished years and allThe good and great who came and passed with them,And knew that ever would the years to comeBring with them, in their course, the good and great,Lights of the world, though, to my clouded sight,Their rays might seem but dim, or reach me not.
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