Stars of the sky come out on the earth, 
Out of the void of the sky, 
Out of the clouds, 
Of the mantle-clouds of the sky, 
Come, 
Come for the moon is pale. 
Pallid and spectral
As the night, 
Dead as the clouds of the night. 

Wake from the woodland, winds, 
Wanton and wail on the sea, 
Move where the billows, rent and restless, 
Are mute. 

Rise from the clod and sea and air, 
Arise, O forms that are lifeless, inert, 
Start as by impulse
And tremble to being. 

Now the light of the stars and the spheres, 
Now the breath of the wind
And the rush of the watery waste, 
Are motionless, 
Immobile, 
Dead. 

Only the tumult, 
The fire and the flame in the heart are here
Within, the beat and the pulse
Of long agitations
Perturb. 
Longings for the loved ones lost, 
Loved as the waves of the wind, 
Loved as the stars of the night, 
Lost as the wind and the night, 
Lost as the waves and the spheres. 
Without, 
In the cold, lightless silence of night. 
All is mute, 
All is dead.