"How sweet the stars are, trembling in the sky, As I look up across the shadowy trees, Whose branches softly melt in heaven’s seas, And mix with stars as griefs with destinies. How sweet they are that overhead do fly And reel and burn like sweet dreams born divine That high in heaven grow restless if too fine For human uses. Sweet the sleepy air That scarce can hold the moonlight in its arms, For dreaming and for sleeping; sweet the stair Of clouds that winds to God, upheld in palms Of planets poised in the dark atmosphere; Sweet all things here atwixt the seas and skies,— Sights, sounds, and odors of this Paradise!"