I regarded it much as Æneas did Orion, when he says:

"'To that blest shore we steered our destined way,
When sudden dire Orion roused the sea!
All charged with tempests rose the baleful star,
And on our navy poured his watery war.'

The contemplation of the starry heavens has ever exerted an elevating
influence on my mind. In viewing its glories, I am borne far from
the puerilities of earth, and my soul seeks a purer and more noble
sphere."

"Your quotation from Virgil recalled a passage in Job--'Seek him that
maketh the seven stars and Orion, and turneth the shadow of death
into morning.' Oh! how inimitably sublime is inspired language--and
'turneth the shadow of death into morning.' And how comforting the
promise conveyed," said Mary, earnestly.

"Miss Irving, don't you admire Cassiopeia very much?" said Dr.
Bryant, wishing to turn the current of her thoughts. "I think it very
beautiful, particularly when it occupies its present position, and, as
it were, offers to weary travelers so inviting a seat. Yet often I am
strangely awed, in gazing on the group so enveloped in unfathomable
mystery. Who may say when another of its jewels shall flicker and go
out? And when may not our own world to other planets be a 'Lost Star?'
How childish associations cling to one in after years. I never looked
up at Cassiopeia, without recalling the time when my tutor gave me as
a parsing lesson, the first lines of the 'Task'--literally a task to
me (mind I do not claim the last as original, for it is a plagiarism
on somebody, I forget now who). My teacher first read the passage