University of Virginia Library


7

SONNET I. To the Moon.

Pale moon! I love thy luminous orb to view
When first thou mountest from the azure main;
Pale moon! I love to mark thy tenderest hue
Steal softly o'er the wide and wat'ry plain.
For while I see thee smiling on the wave
As golden clouds thy lonely lamp attend,
Methinks I view a form that often gave
The charm that waits upon a pitying friend.
Oft, when disgusted with day's garish light,
I've wander'd pensive by the twilight gleam,
Thou'st chac'd for me the dark impending night
With many a pale and melancholy beam.
Oh! when life's joyless prospects I resign
May conscious virtue give a ray like thine: