The sun has gone;
The tide of stars is setting all our way,
The Pleiades call softly to Orion,
As nightly they have called these million years;
The children lie asleep; now let them out,
    And, over-hearing,
We waft the fairy call into your dreams,
That you may swim upon that tide of gold
And list'ning in your hearts,
    Just over-hear
That deep tremendous thunder
    Signalling reply:
    All's well!
Orion answering the Pleiades!