96
On nature's face, spring from thy sleepless couch,
And mark the moonlight, when no one may see
Thy deep emotion, and no idle word
Of heartless praise disturb thy soul-felt spell;
Gaze on the stars, till thou dost deem the gale
That murmurs by is music from the spheres,
No taint of earth upon thy dream of heaven;
Watch the bright farewell of the sun, when he
Seeks the white bosom of his ocean-love.
Look on those glorious tints, till thou dost wish
Thou wert a beautiful shadow like to them—
A transitory, but a brilliant thing,
Born amid glory, past away in light;
Ah! then, indeed, nature has magic charms,
And I do love to dwell upon them then.