Walking in cold winter spells,
The world to silence fell.
Rustles in the mid-morn breeze,
Were scarcely met with chiming bell,
To every eye a glance and step,
A time for each I haven't kept,
But now I see at every breath,
There ever is a time by grace to turn -
From where I prior rashely I leaped.
Beneath the stars,
The moon a speckled general in the sea,
Up seems weak to convey their heights,
They go beyond my reach,
Yet higher still I know the depths recede,
Beyond my comprehension firmly at the peak,
Till all the starry hosts are generals on the seas.