Frederick George Scott (1861–1944)

I ROSE at midnight and beheld the sky

Sown thick with stars, like grains of golden sand

Which God had scattered loosely from His hand

Upon the floorways of His house on high;

And straight I pictured to my spirit’s eye

The giant worlds, their course by wisdom planned,

The weary wastes, the gulfs no sight hath spanned,

And endless time for ever passing by.

Then, filled with wonder and a secret dread,

I crept to where my child lay fast asleep,

With chubby arm beneath his golden head.

What cared I then for all the stars above?

One little face shut out the boundless deep,

One little heart revealed the heaven of love.