Alone in the night
On a dark hill
With pines around me
Spicy and still,

And a heaven of stars
Over my head,
White and topaz
And misty red;

Myriads with beating
Hearts of fire
That aeons
Cannot vex or tire;

Up the dome of heaven
Like a great hill,
I watch them marching
Stately and still,

And I know that
I Am honored to be
Witness
Of so much majesty.

by Sara Teasdale

Reprinted with permission of MacMillan Pub. Co. Inc from Collected Poems by Sara Teasdale. Copyright 1920.