"Here we are."

[Composed for the 12th night of February, 1857.]

——

By W. W. Phelps

——

Shine you with the stars to-night—

Where the best of worlds are running?

Venus with her eyes so bright,

Passing Jupiter so cunning,—

Whose eclipses, like the gipsies,

Show four moons are playing there;—

Night singing—"Here we are."

Shine you with the stars to-night?

Seven stars and Aldebaron;

Mars for war in crimson plight;

Saturn like the "rose of Sharon:"

Rings of splendor, arched up wonder;

Seven moons are dancing there:—

Nightly singing—"Here we are."

Shine you with the stars to-night—

Where the Orions so sweetly,

With their smiling wives in sight,

Show plurality completely:

Six or seven up in heaven,

Give a sample of the lair,—

Nightly singing—"Here we are."

Shine you with the stars to-night—

Where the Twins, in long communion,

Hold their pleasure and delight,—

While the "lesser lights," in union,

Watch Capella take a belly

Full of riding in the chair,—

Nightly singing—"Here we are."

Shine you with the stars to-night—

Where the "Dog-stars" ever eye us,

As the upper sons of light?

What if Kolob is Si-ri us?

God, who's Adam, with a madam.

Brought our garden seeds from there,—

Nightly singing—"Here we are."

Shine you with the stars to-night—

Where our Adam's Father's Father,

In another range of light,

Sees the wiser virgins gather,—

Where the lions fill up Zions—

For yet further kingdoms there?

So on—Singing:—"Here we are."