EVENING STARR

Who treads those level lands of gold, the level fields of mist and air, rolling mountains manifold?

Towers of twilight over there, No mortal foot upon them strays, No archer in towers dwells, but feet too airy for our ways.

Go up and down their hills and dells, the people out of old romance, and people that have never been, those that on the border dance.

Between old history held in creations gentle cradle, between resounding fable

As the King and his court held in Israel, There where this angel fell; was a mighty nation that honored those feathers of  brilliant white, In the view of fancy’s sight.

Lucifer the arc angel rides to war with just the tip of his spear, clearly the greatest of them all by far, is surely visible from here,

But no it is the most beautiful evening star