HEINRICH HEINE - Repositories

Gray night broods above the ocean.
Little stars gleam sparkling o'er us.
And the waters' many voices
Chant in deep, protracted chorus.
Hark! the old northwind is playing
On the polished waves of ocean,
That, like tubes of some great organ,
Thrill and stir with sounding motion.
Partly pagan, partly sacred.
Rise these melodies upswelling
Passionately to the heavens.
Where the joyous stars are dwelling.
And the stars wax large and larger,
In bright mazes they are driven.
Large as suns at last revolving.
Through the spaces of vast heaven.
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