Mathilde Blind (1841 - 1896 / Germany)

AS many stars as are aglow
Deep in the hollows of the night
As many as the flowers that blow
Beneath the kindling light;

As many as the birds that fly
Unpiloted across the deep;
As many as the clouds on high,
And all the drops they weep;

As many as the leaves that fall
In autumn, on the withering lea,
When wind to thundering wind doth call,
And sea calls unto sea;

As many as the multitude
Of quiet graves, where mutely bide
The wicked people and the good,
Laid softly side by side;--

So many thoughts, so many tears,
Such hosts of prayers, are sent on high,
Seeking, through all Man's perished years,
A love that will not die.