THE RISING MOON.
Where yonder clouds adorn the eastern sky,
The slowly rising moon, with solemn pace,
Scans the fair face of heav’n in silent majesty,
And like a light emits her favouring grace.
High though her throne, the sparkling stars,
Proud of their leader, shine more bright;
(Devoid of clouds whose influence mars,)
While mortals share her useful light.
Slow in her train the moving planets all
Glide in their spheres, ambitious to pursue
Their faithful trav’ller as she scans the ball,
And with their lustre combat to outdo.
So man may shine with intellectual light,
And all his virtue to the world impart;
That distant fires his relicts may excite
To study God, and humanize the heart.
L. LE FEVRE.
Pine-Street, Aug. 30, 1798.
