30.07.2007, 18:28
Thou lovely sorceress of the witching night,
Whose paly charms through sombre regions glide;
Lured by the softness of thy silver light,
The Muse pathetic glows with conscious pride.
On the gemmed margin of the lustrous flood,
Whose ripling waters glide so sweetly by;
Oft have I listening to its murmurs stood,
Traced thy pure ray, and winged a lonely sigh!
For Thou, chaste Cynthia, o'er my gentle soul,
Shed'st the mild beam of contemplation's sway;
Thy fascinating spell with proud control
Sweeps the full cadence of my trembling lay:
Then gleam, bright orb, from midnight's velvet vest,
And dart thy pearly lustre o'er my pensive breast.
Whose paly charms through sombre regions glide;
Lured by the softness of thy silver light,
The Muse pathetic glows with conscious pride.
On the gemmed margin of the lustrous flood,
Whose ripling waters glide so sweetly by;
Oft have I listening to its murmurs stood,
Traced thy pure ray, and winged a lonely sigh!
For Thou, chaste Cynthia, o'er my gentle soul,
Shed'st the mild beam of contemplation's sway;
Thy fascinating spell with proud control
Sweeps the full cadence of my trembling lay:
Then gleam, bright orb, from midnight's velvet vest,
And dart thy pearly lustre o'er my pensive breast.