Thus the pale Moon, whose pure celestial light
Has chased the gloomy clouds of Heaven away,
Rests her white cheek, with silver radiance bright,
On the soft bosom of the Western sea.
Lost in the glowing wave, her radiance dies;
Yet, while she sinks, she points her ling'ring ray
To the bright azure of the orient skies—
To the fair dawning of the glorious day.
Like the tumultuous billows of the sea
Succeed the generations of mankind;