Yea, the Presence was in his very soul, else he could never have rejoiced in friend, or desired ghost to mother him: still he knew not the Presence.

But it was drawing nearer and nearer to his knowledge--even in sun and air and night and cloud, in beast and flower and herd-boy, until at last it would reveal itself to him, in him, as Life Himself.

Then the man would know that in which the child had rejoiced.

The stars came out, to Gibbie the heavenly herd, feeding at night, and gathering gold in the blue pastures.

He saw them, looking up from the grass where he had thrown himself to gaze more closely at the daisies; and the sleep that pressed down his eyelids seemed to descend from the spaces between the stars.
But it was too cold that night to sleep in the fields, when he knew where to find warmth.