The moon that held her march alone
At midnight ’round th’ Eternal Throne—
The sullen thunder whose red eyes
Flashed angrily within our skies—
All! all to me were but the chain
Along whose wond’rous links there came
Unceasingly to head and brain
Love’s own electric flame.
Yes! when the Harp of Nature roll’d
Its midnight hymn from chords of gold,