TO ELEANOR.
When Hesper shows his rosiate lamp of love,
High in yon lofty arch of dewy blue;
When gentle dews distilling from above,
Sparkle upon the spreading grass and groves of yew—
When sinks to rest the faintly murmuring breeze,
And dim and indistinct the landscape view—
Lonely I stray among the poplar trees
And muse, dear Eleanor, dear love, on you.
When Luna looks upon yon mountains brown,