Stars in your courses, sing your far cold songs
And show how love lights up the silvered night;
And while we fumble in the sorrowed dark
Your beauty guides us where we have no sight.
We are the exiles in the land of death
Far from our rest, far from that better strand
Where peace and glory need no sun nor moon,
That blessed place built by a nail-scarred hand.
We mourn, as mourn we must, for beauty gone
Too soon away, we mourn the silenced tongue,
We mourn the empty place where once she stood,
We mourn the grace-songs which remain unsung.
We mourn for those of hers who mourn the most,
The deep-bereft, their every tear a prayer,
God of the lonely, wrap them in your love,
Heart-breaking beauty, meet with them right there.
Stars ever-bright sing on! We all must come
Sooner or later to that dreaded shore,
Oh may the welcome light of our true home
Show us the path till we need fear no more.
