The Night Sky

O mystic, delicate chalice of the world,
Jewelled with pallid moons! Exquisite arch
Of the quiet sky; carven 'twixt dusk and dusk
Of smoky Indian jade, a summer night,
By God the Artist, God the deaf and blind,
Who fashions masterpiece on masterpiece,
And through the Window of the Universe
Hurls them forever and forever. . . .
Pale cup, wherein all tears and mirth of men
Distil, that men may drink of thee and live. . . .
Thrice-precious Grail, that holds the Wine of Earth!