Stella

Home from the observatory,
Now I take her on my knee,
And I tell her all the glory
That the lenses showed to me.
Pleased, she listens to my story,
Earnest look then turneth she

Where the stars are softly blinking
In the blue of summer skies.
Ah! she sees beyond my thinking,
Even into Paradise!
Very humbly I am drinking
What o’erfloweth from her eyes.