One By One, Like Leaves From A Tree, All My Faiths Have Forsaken Me; But The Stars Above My Head Burn In White And Delicate Red, And Beneath My Feet The Earth Brings The Sturdy Grass To Birth. I Who Was Content To Be But A Silken-Singing Tree, But A Rustle Of Delight In The Wistful Heart Of Night I Have Lost The Leaves That Knew Touch Of Rain And Weight Of Dew. Blinded By A Leafy Crown I Looked Neither Up Nor Down But The Little Leaves That Die Have Left Me Room To See The Sky; Now For The First Time I Know Stars Above And Earth Below.