XLVII.

Thoughts no more mingled! Then came night--th’ intense Dark blue--the burning stars! I saw _thee_ shine Once more, in thy serene magnificence, O Southern Cross![303] as when thy radiant sign First drew my gaze of youth. No, not as then; I had been stricken by the darts of men Since those fresh days; and now thy light divine Look’d on mine anguish, while within me strove The still small voice against the might of suffering love.