I saw the star all alone.
Peeping out far above my London yard.
The Milky Way barely seen yet known.
Light pollution hidden as by shadow scarred.

I think of my loved Lincolnshire country garden.
Its great night light’s array.
The soul taken aloft upwards and given pardon.
The spirit into beauty carried away.

Your praise Oh God reaches the end of the earth.
Your right hand is filled with saving light
But here in town the lights of Your universe cannot shine forth.
Our manifold cares cloak our sight.

It is inwards therefore that we seek.
With a will that is questioning but necessarily meek.