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Before the winter's haunted nights are o'er, I thankfully rejoice, that stars look down
Above the darkened streets, and I adore The Heavens in London Town.
The Heavens, beneath which Alfred stood, when he Built ramparts by the tide against his foes.
The skies men loved, when in eternity The dreamlike Abbey rose ;
The Heavens, whose glory has not known increase Since Raleigh swaggered home by lantern-light,
And Shakespeare looking upwards knew the peace, The cool deep peace of night.
Under those Heavens brave Wesley rose betimes To preach ere daybreak to the tender soul ;
And in the heart of Keats the starry rhymes Rolled, and for ever roll.
I too have walked with them the heavenly ways, Tracing the sweet embroideries of the sky,
And I shall not forget, when arcs shall blaze, And all the lights are high.
— Edward ShillUo.
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