'Twas noontide of summer,
And
mid-time of night;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro' the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
'Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gaz'd
awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold --- too cold for
me ---
There pass'd, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turn'd away to thee,
Proud
Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy
beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heav'n at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant
fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.