If all the stars like dust were blown
From palm of God upon the earth,
And fell like snow into the night —
Their glitt’ring shine,
Their silent birth —
And whispered quiet melody
Of dancing angels
Far and wide,
Of tinkling, tiny, windy chimes —
They sing to me
Of happy times.
Oh, universe
Now will burst forth,
In praise and song
To God divine.
clarakatalin 
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