Who knows the glory of the stars,
the beauty of their meagre light,
or knows the wonders that are ours
who lay below a summer night?
We’re warm upon the sun kissed earth
while tender ev’ning winds caress,
contented in contempl’tive mirth
while heaven wears its sparkling dress.
Who knows the glory of the stars?
Who comprehends? Who understands?
All I can do is see the stars
and see in them the craftsman’s hands.
Tale Told 