University of Virginia Library

A BEAUTIFUL MOONLIGHT NIGHT IN APRIL.

Hail, wonderous queen in ether's vast expanse,
Thy region is immense, and all around
Dim twinkling stars encircle thy bright throne,
And reverence pay to thy superior light,
Thro' fields sublime in smiles of azure pomp;
And fadeless lustre hail thy still approach,
Whilst slow thou com'st on thy silver wheel,
To chase away the fairy midnight gloom,
Robed in the mantle of nocturnal grace.
We view thee lift thy head above the east
To wake the serenade and cities praise,
Arose, the pleasures of the watchful swain,
The boding night bird pours his ceaseless plaint,
Along the breeze shores, the Yadkins fair,
Which, like the extensive Nile imbibes thy song,
Reflected o'er the water as it flows.
Oh! could I gaze from Pilot's lifted mount,
Whilst Phœbe smiles on this delightful eve,
Soft on her bank, that river falls with now,
Inspire my verse with sweet monotony.
And now Aurora on her golden car,
With limpid eyes look forward to the west,
Like some Sultana in her garb of grace,
Mount from her hidden chamber with a smile,
Adorned in saphire glory, lo! she comes,
With rays of splendant breaking from her brow.
The day born herald, Venus, marks her way,
And thus betrays her beauties to the world.
Now Flora, left by Lunar far behind,
She, with delight, reviews her ruined Pan;
And hence, with pleasure starts the morning song,
And wanders humming thro' the woods till noon;
Then with her bosom hung with laurels green,
Deserts the god of shepherds crowned with flowers,
And then imbibes the ventilating breeze.
Thus on her verdant carpet stretched supine,
Traces heaven's blue curtain as she lies
With pensive wonder, while the concave void,
Inspires revolving thought of one supreme.
She next laments Diana's long delay,
And speaks in accents mild to court her charms;
Prolific queen, whilst wilt thou take thy leave,
To dot thy rays on dark Hesperian wilds;
The wanderers of the night would court thy stay
And languish in the absence of thy smile.
Could Joshua, great victor, all divine,
Descend now in the spirit of his faith,
Thy loosened wheel, would at his voice be still,
And thou with sweeter smiles look down from heaven
And bid the nightly song with joy go on.
Now should the prowling wolves disturb the flock,
The shepherd's flute with awe his hunger raged,
The hooting owl would lift his voice in vain,
Wet with the drops of night distilled from heaven;
The stores of vegitation would revive,
From congealation free and void of blast,
The pleasing charms of summer to inspire,
Then could I smile and in my garland's robe,
A visit paid to thy bright festival,
And sporting virgins dance to hear the sound,
So mild and dulcet thro' the pleasant grove,
Till Phebus peeping from his window high,
Throws by the misty curtains of the night
And lifts his torch refulgent up to the east,
Then bids the retinue of Lunar fly,
Pleased with the memory of the late passed nigh
She bids revolving Phebus haste away,
That meek-eyed Pœhbe may resume her seat.
The pride of ether, and the queen of night,
Whose smiles the rover nymph with tears invoke;
To pay their tribute from the dreary bogs
And sing the memory of a sister's flight.
From fragrant Enna to the shades below
The Whip-poor-will now on the twilight verge
Tracks up her glad exhilarating tone
And Hesper's maids ascends the western States
To light the lamps in the etheral hall.
Like their attendants at some nuptial feast,
Adorned inferior to the bridal queen,
Who leaves her dark abode and slow ascends
Wild up the azure steps the stairs of love.
And stores the upper chambers with superior grace.
Now from the Orient ocean see the bride,
Of hidden Phebus with her silver zone,
With all her glimmering train around her throngs,
And gayed with humble silence on the throne,
She looks a princess or an Eastern bride,
Just from some courtly region of renown,
Arrayed in diamonds or the costly gems,
Which shed their waters on the raptured eye,
Like cytherea on the cradle shell;
Ascending gently from her native foam,
An infant of affection from her birth,
Too full of beauty not to be admired,
And far too lovely not to be adored;
And thus Diana soars from earth to heaven,
Whilst Phebus varnishes her silver bowl,
Which like a crystal arch is much delight,
To those who wander through the dreary wilds
At night. Bewildered strangers now may trace,
Her rapid arrows fly throughout the heaven,
And dart with nameless speed to earth below,
Composed of clement rays devoid defeat,
And bids the hidden spectre spring to light,
Thousands of spirits which together meet,
And hand in hand they march beneath their smil
Who slumbering dust lies still in ghostly shades,
Regardless of the melancholy breeze,
And which their dismal voices float along,
Or those which smoothly break from louder gales;
In lyric modulation as from heaven,
'Tis said a minstrel heard them in the night,
Below the moon's pale light they trod there,
And softly breathed a serenade divide,
As winged with grace from Lunar's lucid sphere,
Ethereal concerts seem to move along,
In broken language strangely sweet unknown,
Like harps immortal to revive the sad
With sounds harmonious to the feast of light,
Till lost in awful silence on the minstrel's ear.