It was long I lay
Awake that night
Wishing that night
Would name the hour
And tell me whether
To call it day
(Though not yet light)
And give up sleep
The snow fell deep
With the hiss of spray;
Two winds would meet
One down one street
One down another
And fight in a smother
Of dust and feather
I could not say
But feared the cold
Had checked the pace
Of the tower clock
By tying together
Its hands of gold
Before its face

Then cane one knock!
A note unruffled
Of earthly weather
Though strange and muffled
The tower said, "One!'
And then a steeple
They spoke to themselves
And such few people
As winds might rouse
From sleeping warm
(But not unhouse)
They left the storm
That struck en masse
My window glass
Like a beaded fur
In that grave One
They spoke of the sun
And moon and stars
Saturn and Mars
And Jupiter
Still more unfettered
They left the named
And spoke of the lettered
The sigmas and taus
Of constellations
They filled their throats
With the furthest bodies
To which man sends his
Speculation
Beyond which God is;
The cosmic motes
Of yawning lenses
Their solemn peals
Were not their own:
They spoke for the clock
With whose vast wheels
Theirs interlock
In that grave word
Uttered alone
The utmost star
Trembled and stirred
Though set so far
Its whirling frenzies
Appear like standing
In one self station
It has not ranged
And save for the wonder
Of once expanding
To be a nova
It has not changed
To the eye of man
On planets over
Around and under
It in creation
Since man began
To drag down man
And nation nation