In youth I stood tiptoe upon a dream
And reached to touch the brightest crystal star;
Then years away I still could see its gleam,
A silver shaft to rift the clouds of war.
The black-cowled horesmen bringing tragic death
Could not dispel its glow. With inner sight,
I eased a wounded comrade's tortured breath--
My Star became a benison of LIGHT.
Where birds of steel were screaming, wings outspread,
And swords were stained with crimson to the hilt,
I heard a Heavenly chorus, angel-led
And mustered out a soul his dream rebuilt.
O eager youth, stand tall upon your dreams
That you may build them by the Starlight's gleams.
