“Like A Star” by James Herbert Morse first appeared in The Atlantic Monthly in August 1895:

No spirit have I, when the moon is full,
To run to greet it on the round earth’s edge;
Nor, when the spring has mantled every hedge
With all the marvel and the miracle
Of blade, and leaf, and blossom white as wool,
Am I the first to cry aloud. All still,
When others shout, I lie upon the hill,
Beholding, maniple on maniple,
The ranks unfold, -- leaf, blossom, beast, and bird;
Yet in my heart a high priest chants his praise,
Not less devout because it is not heard
Of men who pass me on the public ways.
I have no song, -- no, not a single bar, --
But my soul, sleepless, gazes like a star.

We want to hear what you think about this article. Submit a letter to the editor or write to letters@theatlantic.com.