Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1.
Frank Moore, Ed.

11. Stars in my country's sky.

Are ye all there? Are ye all there,
     Stars of my country's sky?
Are ye all there? Are ye all there,
     In your shining homes on high?
“Count us! Count us,” was their answer,
     As they dazzled on my view,
In glorious perihelion,
     Amid their field of blue.

I cannot count ye rightly;
     There's a cloud with sable rim;
I cannot make your number out,
     For my eyes with tears are dim.
Oh! bright and blessed Angel,
     On white wing floating by,
Help me to count, and not to miss
     One star in my country's sky!

Then the Angel touched mine eyelids,
     And touched the frowning cloud;
And its sable rim departed,
     And it fled with murky shroud.
There was no missing Pleiad,
     'Mid all that sister race;
The Southern Cross gleamed radiant. forth,
     And the Pole-Star kept its place.

Then I knew it was the Angel
     Who woke the hymning strain
That at our dear Redeemer's birth
     Pealed out o'er Bethlehem's plain;
And still its heavenly key-tone
     My listening country held,
For all her constellated stars
     The diapason swelled.

Hartford, Conn. L. H. S.