<h2><SPAN name="chap80"></SPAN>NOCTURNE</h2>
<p class="poem">
Night of infinite power and infinite silence and space,<br/>
From you may mortals infer, if ever, the scope divine!<br/>
The jealous sun conceals all but his arrogant face,<br/>
You bid the Milky Way and a million suns to shine.<br/>
<br/>
Each star to numberless planets gives light and motion and heat,<br/>
But you enmantle them all, the nearest and most remote;<br/>
And the lustres of all the suns are but spangles under your feet,—<br/>
Mere bubbles and beads of noon, they circle and shine and float.<br/></p>
<p class="left">
WILLIAM ROSCOE THAYER</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
