The Book of the Native

by Charles G.D. Roberts


 

Two Spheres


 

While eager angels watched in awe,
    God fashioned with his hands
Two shining spheres to work his law,
    And carry his commands.

With patient art he shaped them true,

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    With calm, untiring care;
And none of those bright watchers knew
    Which one to call most fair.

He dropped one lightly down to earth
    Amid the morning’s blue—

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And on a gossamer had birth
    A bead of blinding dew.

It flamed across the hollow field,
    On tiptoe to depart,
Outvied Arcturus, and revealed

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    All heaven in its heart.

He tossed the other into space
    (As children toss a ball)
To swing forever in its place
    With equal rise and fall;

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To flame through the ethereal dark,
    Among its brother spheres,
An orbit too immense to mark
    The little tide of years.