Poems, partly of rural life, (in national English.) By William Barnes |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. | SONNET IV. TO THE MOON. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
 | Poems, partly of rural life, (in national English.) |  |
28
SONNET IV. TO THE MOON.
Queen of the stars, that ridest forth on high
Amid the silver-skirted clouds of night,
O'ershining proudly from the zenith sky
The gloomy wood upon the southern height;
Now day with busy life and golden light
Has sunk away below the western sky;
And sleep-bound labourers have shut their sight
From voiceless fields and streams that round them lie.
Amid the silver-skirted clouds of night,
O'ershining proudly from the zenith sky
The gloomy wood upon the southern height;
Now day with busy life and golden light
Has sunk away below the western sky;
And sleep-bound labourers have shut their sight
From voiceless fields and streams that round them lie.
Glory of night, still following the sun,
How sweetly does thy mildly-beaming face,—
Made bright by him,—reflect his glorious rays!
How sweetly does thy mildly-beaming face,—
Made bright by him,—reflect his glorious rays!
Like thine may be the course that we may run;
Reflecting in the darksome world the grace
Of our Redeemer to our endless praise.
Reflecting in the darksome world the grace
Of our Redeemer to our endless praise.
| Poems, partly of rural life, (in national English.) | |