Laugh loud and shrill unto the winds, Ho! Ho!
For that which none but I and _it_ do know.

To think how when I find this lucky star,
And stand beneath it, like the Wise of old,
I shall mount upward on a golden car,
Girt round with glory unto worlds afar,
While Earth amazed the wonder shall behold,
That bears me unto happiness untold!

Hush! I'll not whisper it, lest some should hear,
And hurry on before me to the spot,
Leaving me bound for ever to this sphere,
Parted for ever from my child--I here,
She in the realm that I could enter not.

Hush! I must hurry on--for many nights
Have I sought for the star about the sky,
And found it not amid the myriad lights,
Greater and lesser with their satellites,
Flashing confusedly upon mine eye.

I must unravel every golden hair
Upon the brow of Night for what I seek,
Lift every straggler from its moony lair,
Lest too _the_ star should haply linger there,
Unnoted by mine eyes so faint and weak.

For as the Wise Men did in old time trace
The Holy Child by this same guiding star,