Littell's Living Age/Volume 169/Issue 2181/Sunrise

, in the clear white starlight how they gleam Those myriad crosses thou hast set to be    Guide posts and guardians for the heart of me, That quails, and cowers, as some faint moonbeam Lightens their pallid faces, till they seem Frowning and fierce! O Lord look piteously From thy far heaven as once from Calvary, On me who struggle thro’ life’s anguished dream!

Sudden the starlight waneth wan, and dead, The moon a blown rose-petal, faint and white; And, lo! the dawn with fair gold flowers and red Hath filled the empty skies, and one bedight With sunshine for a garment, standeth nigh, "Child, where mine hand sets crosses there am I!"