'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.
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 Heav'n at night, And more I admire
Thy distant fire,