Stolat.pl

'Twas noontide of summer,
And mid-time of night ;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro' the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
'Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile ;
Too cold-too cold for me-
There pass'd, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turn'd away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy beam shall be ;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in eaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly night.