Look, where the northern streamers wave and fold

Look, where the northern streamers wave and fold,
Bluish and green and gold,

At the far corner of the quiet land,
Moved by an unseen hand!

Some one has drawn the curtains of the night,
And taken away the light.

It is so still I cannot hear a sound,
Except the mighty bound

Your little heart makes beating in your side,
And the first sob of tide,

When the sea turns from ebb far down the shore
To his old task once more.

O surging, stifling heart, have all your will,
In the blue night and still!

Love till the Hand folds up the firmament,
And the last stars are spent!