Ad Matrem
O visioned face, unutterably fair,
How oft when blackness muffled up the night,
And tempest-laden was the surcharged air,
Nor any hope appeared of starry light,
How often, lucent as the full-faced moon,
When suddenly she rends the clouded fleece,
Hath thy sweet influence, like an unhoped boon,
Turned dark to bright, and tempest into peace!
Queen of my night of sorrows hast thou been,
Whose countenance of good all evil mars,
Knowing to crown with hopeful light serene
Earth's darksome vault when most forlorn of stars,
And to convert clouds bodeful of despair
To silver-suited omens good and fair.
O visioned face, unutterably fair,
How oft when blackness muffled up the night,
And tempest-laden was the surcharged air,
Nor any hope appeared of starry light,
How often, lucent as the full-faced moon,
When suddenly she rends the clouded fleece,
Hath thy sweet influence, like an unhoped boon,
Turned dark to bright, and tempest into peace!
Queen of my night of sorrows hast thou been,
Whose countenance of good all evil mars,
Knowing to crown with hopeful light serene
Earth's darksome vault when most forlorn of stars,
And to convert clouds bodeful of despair
To silver-suited omens good and fair.