THE early bridal Moon
Comes in her splendour forth, and walks between
The stars of Heaven, like an anointed queen
Amid her maids at noon.
Now from the sleeping hills
The spectral mist-wreaths quickly pass away,
Beneath her pale, but earth enamoured ray,
And glory all things fills.
Forth let us wander, led
By odours sweet; leaving th' accustomed way,
The valley seek we, where the moonbeams stray,
Like May-flowers newly shed!
The distant streamlets sing
Their vesper hymn.—Is there a voice below
Can give such music, mingled with such woe,
Or can such rapture bring?
In the far wild we hear
That soothing tone its murmurings repeat,
And the more sad, the sweeter, as is meet
The spirit lone to cheer.
Fair is the sky, and fair
The earth; and yet 'tis but the moon, this night,
That lights them both, and makes them look so bright,—
Clothes them in beauty rare!
And who are they that come
Into the moonlight from the tranquil shade,
And then shrink back, as to be seen afraid,
With feelings that are dumb?
Two lovers fond and true
Holding communion with each other's hearts;—
The first pure glow of love that ne'er departs,
Which moonlight scenes renew.
Who has not on the moon
Looked long and musingly, and, looking, dreamed
Of love and loveliness? Who has not deemed
Its ray a granted boon?
The unveiled orb of night—
To which the sighs and orisons, flow'r-wreathed,
Of lovers in all ages have been breathed,—
Bathes all she sees in light.
Her tracery is rich
With images Mosaic, soft inlaid;—
Forms, heav'n-traced, slumber 'twixt the light and shade,
In every quiet niche.
Moonlight is not like eld,—
For it is young, and bright, and fresh and clear;
But age the features sharpens, and brings near
Resemblances withheld:
So moonlight in its pride
Outlines the landscape, and brings out to view
Scenes of bright promise, and of fairy hue,
By glen and mountain side!
In moonlit mead or dell
My soul endenizened, imbibes a tone
Of nature-nurtured truth, which still is prone
A plaintive tale to tell.