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Through dusky lane and wrangling mart.

Plying their daily task with busier feet,

Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat.

John Keble (The Christian Year, “St. Matthew.”)

THE DARK COMPANION

There is an orb that mocked the lore of sages

Long time with mystery of strange unrest;

The steadfast law that rounds the starry ages

Gave doubtful token of supreme behest;

But they who knew the ways of God unchanging,

Concluded some far influence unseen—

Some kindred sphere through viewless others ranging,

Whose strong persuasions spanned the void between;

And knowing it alone through perturbation

And vague disquiet of another star,

They named it, till the day of revelation,

“The Dark Companion”—darkly guessed afar.

But when, through new perfection of appliance,

Faith merged at length in undisputed sight,

The mystic mover was revealed to science,

No Dark Companion, but—a speck of light:

No Dark Companion, but a sun of glory:

No fell disturber, but a bright compeer:

The shining complement that crowned the story:

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