A firefly cried across the night:
"O lofty star, O streaming light,
Clear eye of heaven, immortal lamp
Set high above the dew and damp,
Thou great high-priest to heaven's King
And chief of all the choirs that sing
Their golden, endless antiphons
Of praise before the eternal thrones—
Hear thou my prayer of worship! Thine
The glory, all the dimness mine.
I am a feeble glimmering spark
Vagrant along the lower dark."
The star called down from heaven's roof
With a humble heart and mild reproof:
"The Power that made, the Breath that blew
My fire aglow has kindled you
With equal love and equal pain
And equal toil of heart and brain.
For I am only a wandering light,
Your elder comrade in the night.
We are two sisters, you and I,
And when we two burn out and die
It will be hardly known from far
Which was the firefly, which the star."