XX.
Hail to the queen of heaven! her silvery crown
Serenely wearing, o’er her high domain
She walks in brightness, looking cloudless down,
As if to smile on her terrestrial reign.
Earth should be hush’d in slumber—but the night
Calls forth her worshippers; the feast is spread,
On hoary Lebanon’s umbrageous height
The shrine is raised, the rich libation shed
To her, whose beams illume those cedar-shades
Faintly as Nature’s light the ’wilder’d soul pervades.