T!
��HENRY ROWE
522 Moon
SHEE too, modeot tressed maid. When thy fallen stars appear; When in lawn of fire array'd
Sovereign of yon powder'd sphere, Xo thee I chant at close of day, Beneath, O maiden Moon' thy ray.
Throned in sapphired ring supreme, Pregnant with celestial juice,
On silver wing thy diamond stream Gives what summer hours produce,
While view'd impearPd earth's rich inlay,
Beneath, O maiden Moon' thy ray.
Glad, pale Cynthian wine I sip,
Breathed the flow'ry leaves among,
Draughts delicious wet my lip;
Drown'd in nectar drunk my song;
While tuned to Philomel the lay,
Beneath, O maiden Moon 1 thy ray.
Dew, that od'rous ointment yields, Sweets, that western winds disclose,
Bathing spring's more purpled fields, Soft 's the band that winds the rose;
While o'er thy myrtled lawns I stray
Beneath, O maiden Moon! thy ray.
�� �
