"Come little ones, You are worth no more than the foxes and yellow wolfkins, yet I will give you wisdom. O future children: Trouble is coming; the world as of the present time Sails on its rocks; but you will be born and live Afterwards. Also a day will come when the earth Will scratch herself and smile and rub off humanity: But you will be born before that. Time will come, no doubt, When the sun too shall die; the planets will freeze, and the air on them; frozen gases, white flasks of air Will be dust: which no wind ever will stir: this very dust in dim starlight glistening Is dead wind, the white corpse of wind. Also the galaxy will die; the glitter of the Milky Way, our universe, all the stars that have names are dead. Vast is the night. How you have grown, dear night, walking your empty halls, how tall!"