How pretty is each little star,
Each tiny twinkler, soft and meek!
Yet many in this world there are
Who do not know that stars can speak.
To them the skies are meaningless,
A star is not a living thing;
They cannot hear the messages
Those shining creatures love to bring.

Hush! listen! ah! it will not do;
You do but listen with your ears;
And stars are understood by few,
For it must be the heart that hears.
Look up, not only with your eyes;
Ah! do you hear a tender sound?
To hearts familiar with the skies,
The stars are nearer than the ground.