’Mid goodly elms and oaks which stem the gale,
And which commandingly arose to view;
The pale-blue smoke curl’d up anon anew;
And on a mound the flag-staff bore on high
The family-banner, in the sun-set sky.
Above—there waited the pale queen of night,
With her retaining beams of holy light;
Then condescending to the happy pair—
When Sol had vanish’d—strew’d her silvery care:
O righteous moon, refulgent in the skies!—