The sun was black with judgment, and the moon
 Blood: but between
I saw a man stand, saying: 'To me at least
 The grass is green.

'There was no star that I forgot to fear
 With love and wonder.
The birds have loved me'; but no answer came --
 Only the thunder.

Once more the man stood, saying: 'A cottage door,
 Wherethrough I gazed
That instant as I turned -- yea, I am vile;
 Yet my eyes blazed.

'For I had weighed the mountains in a balance,
 And the skies in a scale,
I come to sell the stars -- old lamps for new --
 Old stars for sale.'

Then a calm voice fell all the thunder through,
 A tone less rough:
'Thou hast begun to love one of my works
 Almost enough.'