The Eastern Heaven

 or

 The Corps De Ballet

You smile and are charming

In spangles and sheen;

Your task is preparing

The task of the Queen.

You think, none regard you

When once she appears;

The Queen wins the lilies,

The Corps weep the tears.

But know, that the seekers

Watch night after night,

The motes in the moonbeam

As well as the light.

And search the horizon

For gleams few discern,

The stars that will heighten,

And brighten, and burn.

John Masefield