 | The American common-place book of poetry |  |
To the Moon.—Walsh's National Gazette
When the gross cares of daylight end,
And selfish passions cease to be,
How will the exulting thought ascend
Bright mystery, to thee!
And selfish passions cease to be,
How will the exulting thought ascend
Bright mystery, to thee!
Distant and calm, the spirit land,
To which is breathed hope's fondest prayer;
Where seraph's wings their hues expand.
And harpings charm the air.
To which is breathed hope's fondest prayer;
Where seraph's wings their hues expand.
And harpings charm the air.
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O, glorious is the rising sun,
Pavilioned in his blushing glow,
When fairy winds have just begun
To wake the flowers below;
Pavilioned in his blushing glow,
When fairy winds have just begun
To wake the flowers below;
Or shrined amid the western gold,
While evening's balmy odors rise,
And fancy can almost behold
The elysium of the skies.
While evening's balmy odors rise,
And fancy can almost behold
The elysium of the skies.
Yet far surpassing the bright dawn
Of purple sunset is thy power;
For death's dim veil is half withdrawn
At thy presiding hour.
Of purple sunset is thy power;
For death's dim veil is half withdrawn
At thy presiding hour.
Affection seeks, in thy calm sphere,
The soul beyond life's stormy sea;
And minds too pure to sorrow here,
Fair planet, dwell with thee.
The soul beyond life's stormy sea;
And minds too pure to sorrow here,
Fair planet, dwell with thee.
The bright stars shine around the throne,
The lonely ocean greets thy ray;
Air, sea, and earth,—all seem to own
Thy spiritual sway.
The lonely ocean greets thy ray;
Air, sea, and earth,—all seem to own
Thy spiritual sway.
| The American common-place book of poetry | |