On blue ground,
Their loose charm a sudden jubilee of patience
For all the world to wash away,
Grow, phosphoring in shadow,
Round, radiant gazes
Glow-bezeled all with hair;
Pressure-proved and fire-intensed,
Some brew a kindly brilliance that forgives.
Their cradlings--overblued, and hard-edged,
Do rough and darkly trudge,
Save mothers smooth and light the ground
With dust and shine
From their own mother's diamonds.
Seeded with a billion and a half
Old sharded stars,
Earth’s early heart
Slips them one by one
From out beneath the mantle,
And spews them up the self-same pipe
We all must ride to heaven.