Analysis of The Stars

THE terrible tranquillity of space!
 My soul shrinks back in sudden doubt. I fear
 The myriad eyes that through the ether peer,
 And chill the arrogance that dared to trace
 The grave enigma of the cosmic face.
 Yet through the soundless night a voice austere—
 “We that you deem afar are small and near;
 With lowly things and humble we have place;
 We are but smoke that from a burnt Past rears;
 The idle spray God's prow flings in its sweep
 Through wider waters; the mere dust that curls
 From his vast chariot-wheels as on He whirls;
 The futile sparks that from His anvil leap;
 Or drifting seeds, pregnant of larger spheres.”