THE FIRE-FLY. 
473 
And sorrow tracketh wrong, 
As echo follows song, 
On, on, for ever. 
By night, like stars on high, 
The hours reveal their train; 
They whisper and go by; 
I never watch in vain. 
Moves one, move all; 
Hark to the foot-fall! 
On, on, for ever. 
They pass the cradle head, 
And there a promise shed; 
They pass the moist new grave, 
And bid rank verdure wave; 
They bear through every clime, 
The harvests of all time, 
On, on, for ever. 
Barry Cornwall, 
rTlELL us, O Guided by what strange natural laws 
This winged flower throws out, night after night, 
Such lunar brightness. Why ? for what grave cause 
Is this earth-insect crowned with heavenly light ? 
